Craters on the Moon
by arack14
Summary: "Perhaps. But scars are just physical reminders of the challenges we have overcome... and that is nothing to be ashamed of." Join Orion, a fifteen-year-old demigod who doesn't even know who his godly parent is, as he struggles to come to grips with his identity - and his purpose. However, he soon learns some truths may be better left unsaid. Eventually follows Titan's Curse. OCxZoë
1. Chapter 1: Encounters

**Hey, everyone. So it's been a while since I've written anything for this site. My last attempt was an Inheritance Cycle fic that I decided to discontinue because a) I misplaced my notes where I'd written my plans for the story and b) I lost interest. Feel free to check it out if you want; it's not that good, but eh. It is up for adoption, though, so if anyone wants to try their hand at continuing it, shoot me a PM.**

 **I wanted to get back into fanfiction and I've been really hung up on PJO and HoO lately, so I decided I'd give it a shot. I'm not sure what my update schedule will be like, but right now I'm trying to get a chapter up once every three days or so.**

 **Anyways, that's about it for my author's note. Follow, favorite, review, etc. and let me know what you think. I'm always looking for constructive criticism :) Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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Chapter 1: Encounters

In hindsight, I suppose I maybe should have listened to all those warnings about venturing into the woods – alone – in the dead of night. But hey, I'm not much of a fan of clichés, and besides, I didn't really have a choice.

Away from the polluting influence of city lights, the stars above me were easily visible against the pitch black backdrop of the cloud-free sky. The moon wasn't quite full, but close, and it bathed the trees around me with a soothing silver glow. There was a slight breeze from the west, and the mountain air carried with it brought a pleasant, crisp feeling to the forest. I breathed in deeply. I felt some kind of mental barrier break, and for the first time, I heard the song of the wild flood into me like a sixth sense.

It was a bit overwhelming, honestly. Imagine you've lived your whole life with a wool cloth over your eyes, dampening your senses, and then all of a sudden the cloth is lifted and you can see the world for the first time. You've never known what it was like to have sight, so your brain doesn't know what to do with all the information it's now receiving from your eyes. I couldn't properly process everything I was hearing and feeling, but I did know one thing: this was where I was meant to be.

A nearby howl jolted me from my reverie, reminding me why I was here. If I had the opportunity, I would have spent the next few days simply sitting there in the forest, letting the call of the hunt flow over me and strengthen me, relishing the feeling of finally being able to experience my natural element. But alas, I didn't have a few days. In fact, I likely didn't even have a few minutes. The hellhounds were close on my trail, if that howl was anything to go by, and if they caught me… well, let's just say, I had no intention of going back _there_.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and starting sprinting through the trees. As I ran, the cool light of the moon washed over me, and I felt my limbs fill with extra strength. I grinned to myself. The hellhounds may have been hot on my trail, but my pursuers had made a costly mistake in not catching me before I reached the forest. The ball was in my court now, so to speak, and I'd be damned if I was going to let them overtake me now.

The woods seemed to go on forever, but that was fine with me. The more I ran, the better I felt, as my body acclimatized to the power it had been born to use. I admit, I didn't exactly know why I was reacting this way. I had never gleaned anything useful from Krios except that one of my parents was an Olympian god. I still didn't know which god, let alone which parent. Whatever the reason, being in the forest had always just felt right.

A sound interrupted my musings. No, not a sound… the lack of sound. The baying of the hellhounds had ceased, as had the whisper of mountain air from earlier. I felt a tingling at the base of my neck. The song of the wild in my mind quieted, as if in fear of discovery. Then every instinct screamed, _TURN!_

I made to spin around, raising my arms into a defensive position. Too late. I had only half completed my spin when the impact of something hard and flat sent me flying backwards. I twirled through the air, the momentum of my spin carrying me sideways as I crashed into the trunk of an oak tree, hard. The tree groaned and shuddered, a few acorns dislodging to fall neatly on my face.

The impact nearly made me black out. The scars on my back stung, and I knew for sure some of the old wounds had reopened. I could feel the thin lines of blood slicing their tracks down my back, and I tried to force myself to open my eyes. It worked, barely, but what I saw almost made me wish it hadn't.

Krios, the Titan of the South, was standing in the clearing where I'd been moments ago. Clearly, it had been his hand that had sent me flying across the glade with the same effort you might use to swat a troublesome bee. He had shrunk himself to a slightly less intimidating size than usual, standing only around ten feet tall, and was only wearing part of his armor – his breastplate, which was dark-blue and decorated with patterns of stars. His ram's-horn helm was absent, but I could see his pitch-black sheath hanging at his waist, the sword not yet drawn. Apparently he didn't expect me to put up much of a fight. Hmph.

He was gazing at me with what I could only describe as frustrated amusement. The hellhounds trotted into the clearing, growling and snarling at me, drool dripping from their jaws. Without the refreshing mountain breeze from earlier to disperse it, the stink from the hellhounds was suffocating. Nevertheless, Krios watched as I struggled slowly to my feet and gave him a wry grin. He narrowed his eyes. "Orion Allen," he said. The grin melted off my face and I clenched my fist. Orion was my birth name, but when I was young, I couldn't pronounce it right; it came out more like "Arrin." For some reason, I had never really liked the name Orion, so as I grew up, I just started going by Arrin. I never knew why, but it seemed to give Krios a perverse pleasure to call me by my real name, as if it were an insult. That in itself was reason enough for me to dislike his use of it.

"My name," I spat at him, "is Arrin. _Not_ Orion."

My reaction elicited a chuckle from Krios. "You are as predictable as you are easy to irritate. Tell me, did you really think you would be able to hide in the forest? I know you have always felt at home in the wild. I suppose you felt drawn here, yes? You thought the forest would help protect you." I stared at him, and he smiled. "It really is a shame you haven't learned to use your powers. We could have done much together. At the very least, I would have had an entertaining fight on my hands before I kill you."

I was about to retort when I remembered my cardinal rule: Don't let him see your true emotions. With a concerted effort of will, I controlled my anger and tried to calm myself down, slipping my practiced mask carefully back over my expressions. My smirk returned in full force, along with my typical endearing cynicism. "Hmm…" I said, looking thoughtful. "You're looking a little shorter than usual, Goat Boy. Did you lose some weight? And where's Fluffy today? You know he doesn't like to be left out of the fun." Goat Boy was my nickname for him, and Fluffy was what I called Krios' ram's horn helm. Not exactly very mature, I know, but as I figured out early on in my experience with him, the most surefire way to get under his skin was to make fun of his helmet or "forget" that the horns were from a ram and not a goat. He absolutely _hated_ not being taken seriously.

The Titan ground his teeth. "For the last time, boy… you are _not_ allowed to insult my helm. That was forged for me by my father, Ouranos himself, along with the rest of my armor. Besides, they're rams' horns, not goats'!" He reached down to his scabbard and pulled his sword from the sheath. The blade was pure black, and it seemed to suck in all the moonlight around it. I grimaced. I had never seen that sword before, but I could recognize Stygian iron when I saw it. Not good. "I've been patient with you, Orion" – I bit back a growl at the name – "but even my patience has limits. You are a powerful demigod, and my brother Kronos hoped you would be sensible and use your skills to aid him and his allies. It seems he was mistaken."

To mask the fear that was settling into my stomach, I did what came always came easy to me: I laughed at him. "Me? Sensible?" I snorted. "You should know by now those two words don't fit in the same sentence, Goat Boy."

Krios' nostrils flared. "I told him as much. If I'd had my way, I would have just killed you and been done with it. But of course, no one listens to me, least of all Kronos. He was insistent. He ordered me to continue." He flourished his blade a bit and then leveled it at me. "But tonight was the last straw. I know you're capable of escape now. I admit, I underestimated you… that won't happen again. Tonight, you die."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Honestly, Goat Boy." I was impressed with how calm and in-control I managed to sound. "You've had years to kill me, and you've only just now decided to do it? What was it that changed your mind? Were you sick of my rugged good looks? Or maybe it was the constant battles of wits you always lost?" I knew I was playing a dangerous game, provoking the Titan, but he _was_ right about one thing: one way or another, this would end tonight. I wasn't about to get captured again, so if I really couldn't escape… well, I just had to goad him into killing me. Which seemed to be pretty easy, seeing as Krios looked about ready to explode already, and besides, I could feel Krios' rejuvenation spell weakening. I knew that if I didn't get another dose, my wounds would reopen and I would die. All I had to do was keep engaging him in my usual sparkling conversation and this would be a walk in the park – or woods, as it were.

Krios was gripping his sword hilt so hard his knuckles were ghastly white, a stark contrast with the darkness of his blade. "Demigod," he snarled, and now I knew he was angry because he wasn't even bothering to call me Orion, "I will enjoy your death. It will be pleasing that you perish here, where you are most in tune with the power in your blood. A symbolic gesture; a fitting insult to your mother."

I faltered. "My… my mother? My godly parent?"

He grinned now, like a wolf that knew its prey was cornered and was toying with it, just waiting to pounce. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." He seemed to consider something for a moment. "Though I suppose if I'm going to kill you, I might as well tell you the truth before you die."

"That's very polite of you."

"Isn't it?"

"I was being facet- "

"In any case, the answer – well, now that I think about it…" He paused. "You know, I think it would be more fun for you to die in ignorance. Trust me, less painful that way, too, for everyone." He started advancing towards me, that predatory grin still on his face.

For once, I didn't have a sarcastic retort (Shocking, I know). I tried to summon my bow, but I couldn't concentrate. My head was spinning from the Titan's words. _A symbolic gesture; a fitting insult to your mother. Better for you to die in ignorance… less painful for everyone_. How could my parentage possibly be that important? Why would it cause someone pain? And who would be suffering? I didn't have answers to those questions, and possibly the only one who did was standing right in front of me with a Stygian iron sword. Maybe my suicide could wait until I got answers.

I gritted my teeth and tried to banish the uncomfortable thoughts Krios' words had brought on. If he wasn't going to tell me what I wanted to know willingly, I'd just have to beat it out him. I'd been praying for the chance of revenge against him for Zeus only knows how long, so this would be – what was the expression? – ah, killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. Truth be told, I'd never been entirely fond of that saying… something about killing birds with stones just never sat well with me. But regardless, in order to fight Krios, I needed my bow.

At this point you might be thinking, _Arrin, where could you possibly get a bow? There's no way you could have stolen one from Krios' mountain palace as you escaped, right?_ If only it were that simple. What I had was much better. When I was learning from the hermit Fred (I know, it's ironic how strange a normal name sounds in a world of Greek myths, but there you have it), back in the days before I'd gotten captured by Krios, I had eventually figured out that I could use my energy to create a silver bow and matching arrows. It took a lot of focus and energy to form and maintain the bow, but after several months of practicing, I'd gotten the hang of it pretty well.

After a concerted effort, I was able to dismiss my wayward thoughts and hone them, focusing on summoning my bow. Soon, I felt the familiar tug in my gut. The air around my right hand began to shimmer with silver light. The sparkling light condensed into a long, cylindrical shape, but instead of bending and forming into my beloved bow, as it usually did, its form solidified into a thin silver katana.

Well, now that was interesting.

You would have thought that after living for fifteen years in a world of gods and monsters, some of which spent under the tutelage of a reclusive hermit and the rest in the captivity of a Titan, there wouldn't be much left that could surprise me. As it turned out, accidentally summoning a sword you've never used or even seen before instead of your signature bow – when said weapon is formed out of pure energy by your own thoughts and willpower – well, that definitely threw me for a loop.

Krios seemed just as incredulous as I was. He had seen my bow before (I had been using it when he'd captured me), but clearly this was new even for him. He was staring at it with a mixture of his earlier frustrated amusement, anger, and… was that fear? For just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty passed across his face, but it was so fleeting I almost thought I'd imagined it.

Then his head tilted back and he let out a great booming laugh. "It seems, little Orion," he said, eyes sparkling with malice, "That even after all this time, you still have the capacity to surprise me." He chuckled again. "I hope you make this challenging for me. I haven't had decent entertainment since I returned from Tartarus." He stalked towards me, crossing the clearing in a few monstrous steps.

I swallowed a gulp. Fighting a Titan from range with a bow was one thing, but fighting a Titan up close and personal, with a weapon you've never used before, when you can already barely stand from fatigue and the pain of old wounds reopening… need I go on? Suffice it to say, my chances at winning this had just gone from astronomical to downright impossible.

Or at least, that's what I thought. My body had other plans, apparently.

As Krios charged towards me, my fingers rearranged themselves comfortably into position on the hilt of my katana, as if they'd done it a thousand times. New energy flooded into my body, numbing the pain of my wounds. Krios swung his Stygian iron blade at me, and I leapt to the side. The oak tree I'd crashed into earlier (which I'd been standing in front of during our conversation) became noticeably shorter, as the upper half of it toppled to the ground. He came at me again, this time with a two-handed overhead strike. My body went into autopilot. Something told me that my katana was a weapon meant for speed and swiftness, not brute strength, so meeting Krios' attacks head-on was less than advisable. Keeping that in mind, I waited for him to bring his sword down and then raised mine in answer, angling the blade at the last second. Krios' sword raked down my blade and was deflected away from my body, the point sticking into the ground next to me.

My teeth rattled. There was such strength behind Krios' sword that even that glancing blow was enough to make my arms shake. If I could barely even deflect the Titan's strikes, how was I supposed to land my own? The katana in my hand twitched, and I felt some kind of energy radiating from it. I thought about what had just happened, when my body seemed to move on its own, and realization dawned on me. If the sword was formed directly thanks to my godly powers, maybe it actually had some kind of awareness. It wasn't uncommon in the Greek stories for heroes to have weapons that were gifts from the gods, and they were often enchanted to help the wielder somehow in combat. I guess it was worth a shot. _Fine_ , I thought, trying to feed my energy into the sword, showing it that I was relinquishing control. _Speed and swiftness, eh? Go for it, pal._

The katana pulsed once, a short burst of silver light, as if to say, _I thought you'd never ask_. I gasped. All of a sudden, as Krios leveled his sword at me again, I was able to detect the telltale signs of body movement that would reveal his intentions the instant before he moved. My reflexes felt sharper. Overall, it felt like I'd been injected with a mega-shot of adrenaline.

I grinned. Oh, yeah. This was going to be good.

Krios seemed to sense the power coming from the katana, and between that and my wild grin, he looked a bit uneasy. He shook it off quickly, though, his fury overcoming his uncertainty, and he bounded towards me again.

Once again, I waited. As he swung to cut me in two, I leaned back, bending almost in half, and I felt a _whoosh_ of air as the blade passed over my face by inches. While Krios was still off-balance from his swing, I rolled to the side and then sprang to my feet, cutting a foot-long gash in his right calf muscle with my katana as I did.

He bellowed in pain, golden _ichor_ flowing steadily from the gaping wound. Krios glared at me with renewed hatred, and I smirked to myself. "What's the problem, Goat Boy?" I taunted. "Little Orion getting the best of you?" I know, not very smart of me, but hey, I really can't help myself. It's just my nature to be a sarcastic, arrogant jerk – at least to people I don't like, anyway.

The expression on Krios' face was thunderous. He glowered at me, and I thought maybe I had pushed him too far. Even with my newfound strength and agility, he _was_ still a Titan, and I was just a lowly demigod. I didn't intend to give him time to remember that, though, so this time, _I_ charged _him_.

Probably not the smartest thing I've ever done, I'll admit. But I was getting worried now. I could feel the energy from the katana starting to slowly ebb away, and I wanted to make sure I made use of it while I still could.

The Titan seemed surprised, almost as if he couldn't believe that even I would be stupid enough to willingly run straight at him. News flash, buddy. I invented stupid.

He swung his sword at my head. I ducked, and tried to do the same move earlier by rolling to the side, the opposite side this time. Unfortunately, Krios wasn't as stupid as I was (that goes without saying though, really). He expected that, and his hand reached out and grabbed me as I somersaulted. He threw me to the edge of clearing, where I collided with – you guessed it – the stump of the same oak tree he had punched me into earlier and then cut in half.

For the second time in five minutes, it felt like the scars on my back were ripping me apart. It didn't help that the impact with the tree had completely knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to even draw in a breath. Black spots danced around my vision. A muddled thought flitted through my head; something horribly cliché like, _Not again_.

Krios laughed, but it sounded miles away. The stars spun over my head, and the song of the wild felt fractured, as if it had split and scattered into different areas. The effect was disorienting, and for a second, I was afraid I might have permanent brain damage. Then I frowned. I realized that I could actually still hear the call perfectly well. The reason it had sounded fractured was because now, there were places where there was an echo, as if my song was calling to others; and it was getting a response.

Krios seemed to sense something too. He had been slowly and deliberately lumbering across the clearing to where I lay incapacitated, limping on his injured leg, but now he paused. He sniffed the air and looked around into the trees. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "No!" he yelled. "The boy is mine!" He increased his pace, hobbling as quickly as he could straight towards me.

Helplessly, I watched as Krios approached, and I figured this time I would never have the chance to escape from his palace. He would watch me more carefully than ever. Just as I had resigned myself to my fate, a silver arrow struck Krios in his right bicep. The arrow looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't figure out why.

After the first arrow came a dozen more, all sprouting from Krios' body in non-fatal (but certainly painful – at least I hoped) locations. The combined force of the arrows arrested his momentum and knocked him backwards. With a satisfyingly undignified grunt, the Titan of the South fell onto his rump. I wish I could have enjoyed the moment more; maybe adding in a gloat or two for good measure. Sadly, I was teetering on the edge of consciousness. I was too weak from my battle with Krios and my unfortunate reunion with my old friend Professor Oak, and if whoever was coming now was hostile, there was no way I could fight them. It was taking all my willpower just to remain awake to see what was happening.

A hunting horn echoed throughout the forest, a single, pure note. Along with it, I felt the dispersed songs of the hunt suddenly flood into my mind in full force, nearly overwhelming my barely conscious mind.

Krios took one last hateful look at me. "We will meet again, boy," he snarled. He vanished in a flash of golden light. I wanted to yell at him for being cliché again, but I was rapidly losing energy. I saw a bunch of teenage girls, maybe twenty or so, emerge from the woods, and then I blacked out.

* * *

Artemis gazed down at the broken form of the unconscious boy below her. He was slumped against the stump of an oak tree, the other half of which was lying on the ground a few feet away. Artemis figured the tree must have been destroyed by the Titan Krios during his fight with the boy, before her Hunters had arrived.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she thought of Krios. He was supposed to still be imprisoned in Tartarus, and it disturbed Artemis to know that he had escaped without the gods' knowledge. She longed to interrogate him, but the coward had fled before Artemis could capture him. Zeus would be expecting her to report this to the Council. A Titan loose in the world again after millennia… Artemis shook her head and turned her attention back to the unconscious demigod.

He looked old for a half-blood living on his own, fifteen she guessed, with short, smooth black hair and an admittedly handsome face. He was about five-foot-eleven, maybe six-foot, she figured, though it was hard to tell given the crumpled position he was in. Looking closer at his face, Artemis was hit with an inexplicable sense of familiarity, but she dismissed it. Few males were worth her attention, and she would have known instantly if this was one of them.

Grudgingly, though, she recognized that this demigod looked badly injured, so she knelt down and checked over his body, trying to gauge his wounds. Strangely, she didn't find much. He had a nasty knot on the back of his head, which was likely why he was currently unconscious, but aside from that, he was mostly uninjured. He didn't have any wounds from Krios' sword, so she figured rest was the best remedy for him.

Artemis stood, still in her twelve-year-old form with her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked around the glade where her Hunters were currently setting up camp, searching for two in particular. "Phoebe, Zoë," she called. The two Hunters in question looked up from unpacking their tent. Artemis motioned to the boy at her feet. "Set up a tent for him. He needs rest to recover from his wounds."

They didn't look happy about it, but Phoebe and Zoë made their way over to the goddess and glanced distastefully down at the sleeping boy. "Milady, are you sure?" Phoebe sniffed.

Artemis smiled inwardly. Those two hated men more than most of her Hunters, and she was proud of the conviction with which they upheld those opinions, but so far, this boy had done nothing to offend her, and he needed her help. So she said, "The boy is injured. I understand your reluctance to aid a male, but are we not also obligated to help those in need?" The two girls nodded, looking like they'd swallowed something unpleasant. Nevertheless, they bent down and lifted the boy between them, carrying him off to a tent that had just been set up in an open area of the glade.

Artemis lifted her gaze to the moon and closed her eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong about this whole situation, and it wasn't just the appearance of Krios that had her worried. Apollo had mentioned something about dark days in the near future, and she couldn't help but think he may have been right.

A shriek sounded to her right. Her gaze snapped back down to earth in time to see Phoebe emerging from the tent where they'd carried the unconscious boy. Artemis felt a cold rock of fear settle into her stomach, something that didn't happen often. Phoebe's face was pale, and she was shaking. She met her mistress' eyes, and Artemis saw many emotions written there, none of them pleasant. "Milady," she croaked, her voice hoarse. "You'd best come here."

Artemis did her best to ignore the hard knot of apprehension in her gut as she strode over to the tent. Phoebe still stood outside, looking for all the world like she was trying not throw up. "We were about to set him in the bed when we noticed the back of his shirt looked bloody, milady," Phoebe choked out. "We thought he might have a wound we missed at first, so…" She couldn't finish. Her apprehension growing, the moon goddess pushed aside the tent flap and walked inside. What she saw made the blood drain from her face.

The air was the first thing Artemis noticed, and she nearly staggered when she entered. The tent smelled worse than a rotting fish that had been left out for weeks in the midday sunlight. It was the odor of death and decay. She waved her hand, and the scent of fresh pine washed over her. It didn't completely mask the stink, but it made it bearable. Once her eyes stopped watering, Artemis turned her attention to the center of the tent.

The boy had been placed on a cot, as Artemis had instructed Phoebe and Zoë to do, but he lay face-down. One of the girls had cut off his shirt and discarded it on the floor, revealing the crisscrossing lattice of scars that mapped the boy's back. Some of them were pale white and almost invisible, while others were a raw red, oozing blood. It looked like his back had been used as a scratching post for the world's largest tabby cat. _More like a whipping post_ , Artemis realized, and shuddered despite herself.

Zoë knelt on the floor next to his bed with a wet rag, trying to clean out the wounds, but there were so many. The rag had quickly become too stained to use. Worse, as they watched, some of the older-looking wounds began to reopen. Zoë looked up at her mistress as she entered, and Artemis was surprised to see her lieutenant's eyes glistening. "Milady," she began, "Please do not think any less of me, but as much as I dislike males, this…" she trailed off. "This is inhuman." Her voice cracked at the last word.

Artemis walked over and put a comforting hand on her Hunter's shoulder. "I could never think poorly of you, Zoë," she assured her. "And it may surprise you, but I agree. If I learn who did this, they will pay. No one deserves to suffer like this." Gently, she nudged Zoë aside. "Let me do what I can for him." Zoë nodded and went to stand by the tent entrance, but she remained inside.

As Artemis approached the injured demigod and was treated to a closer look at his mangled back, she began to realize the full extent of the damage to him. "Who did this?" she murmured, putting her hand on the boy's shoulder. He shivered in his sleep, muttering something unintelligible, and Artemis noticed he was sweating profusely. Through the hand on his shoulder, she used her magic to do a more thorough search of his body for wounds than she had visually.

Of course, his back was lit up like a Christmas tree. That in itself was no surprise, but what _was_ surprising was the residue of some kind of healing magic Artemis detected. It seemed to be keeping the worst of his wounds at bay, but she felt it fading, which was likely why some of the scars on his back were reverting to open wounds. The strangest thing was the feel of the healing spell. She had expected it to be soothing, but in actuality, it felt cold and dark, almost malignant, and she couldn't figure out why. She was about to pull back when she noticed something else: a response to her spell from the boy's chest.

She frowned. She couldn't turn him over to look at his abdomen until the wounds on his back were taken care of, so she supposed she'd deal with those first. "Zoë. Fetch me a few squares of ambrosia and some nectar. And get me as many cloths and rags as you can."

"Yes, milady." Zoë bowed and exited the tent.

Artemis gazed back down at the demigod's back and sighed. _This is going to take a while._

Zoë soon returned with a bundle of cloths, a bottle of nectar, and a Ziploc bag of ambrosia in her arms as Artemis had requested, and the goddess set to work on the unconscious boy's wounds. "Not to be rude, Lady Artemis, but why did you require all of this?" she asked, gesturing to the piles of healing materials she'd brought. "Do not all gods and goddesses have basic healing magic?"

Artemis smiled sadly. "Yes, we do," she said. "But there is already some kind of healing spell in the boy's system that I haven't been able to identify. I don't want to risk it interfering with my magic in some way. Zeus knows the boy has enough to worry about as it is."

Zoë nodded. "Do you need me to help, milady?" she offered.

The moon goddess considered for a moment, then nodded. She pointed at the Ziploc bag of ambrosia Zoë had brought. "See if you can get him to swallow a few squares. It might help a little bit." Zoë nodded again. She bent down and opened the bag, reaching in to grab a square of ambrosia. As she attempted to deal with the problem of getting the unconscious boy to open his mouth, Artemis turned to the pile of rags. She picked up one of them and washed it in a bucket of cold water, then draped it over the boy's forehead. She grabbed another piece of cloth and this time, she took the bottle of nectar and poured some onto the cloth. She rubbed the second cloth over the boys back, trying to clean out the messy wounds as best she could.

As she'd predicted, it took a long time. After Zoë had managed to force some ambrosia down the demigod's throat, he had stopped shivering and sweating as much, and she retreated back to the entrance of the tent. Once Artemis had finally finished washing the boy's wounds, his back looked markedly better, and most of them had sealed back up into thin scars. She could still feel that strange bit of magic that she'd sensed earlier, and it still made her uneasy, but it didn't interfere in her healing of him so she told herself not to worry too much about it. She took the remainder of the rags Zoë had brought her and used them to bind his back. She covered nearly the entire surface of his back in cloth, then used some of her godly power like an adhesive to ensure that they stuck to his back for now. She would have just wrapped them all the way around his torso, but earlier, she'd sensed some kind of wound on his chest, so she needed that to be unwrapped in order to inspect it.

Now that his back was taken care of, Artemis slowly picked the boy up and turned him over so that he lay on his back, with Zoë's help. He winced a little bit in his sleep as his back hit the mattress, but he didn't wake. Once again, as the skin of his abdomen was revealed, Artemis and Zoë couldn't help but stare.

His abs and chest muscles were admittedly well-developed, but having sworn off males, that wasn't what drew the Hunters' attention. The boy's chest was pockmarked with thin little scars, each maybe a millimeter wide and a few centimeters in length. It looked like someone had taken a knife and stabbed into him over and over again. _Then again,_ Artemis thought, _if his back is anything to go by, it wouldn't surprise me at all if that were actually what happened_.

But that wasn't the worst of it: each of the little scars was tinted a sickly pale green. It wasn't obvious, but it was certainly noticeable upon closer examination. _Poison,_ Artemis grimaced, but she wanted to be sure. She laid her hand on the center of the demigod's sternum and once again willed her essence to search for imperfections in his system.

Sure enough, she felt her magic send her a response. But what she found was worse, much worse than she imagined. Her blood ran cold. She hadn't seen this kind of poison in millennia; not since… No, she willed herself not to continue down that line of thought. But that it was here, present in this boy's system, should not have been possible. The fact that it was… this was bad, very bad. In all honesty, she thought, the boy should have been dead long ago. It seemed the questionable healing spell she'd found earlier had kept the toxin at bay, but it had likely been festering in his bloodstream for years, slowly eating away at the spell. It was only a matter of time, maybe a few days, she guessed, before it failed completely. And when it did, she wasn't entirely sure there was anything she could do to help him.

Artemis removed her hand from his chest and stood shakily. Zoë looked at her, concerned. "This… there is something here that is beyond my ability to heal," Artemis said. She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again, gazing at Zoë resignedly. "Tell the Hunters I apologize in advance. I must call for my brother."

* * *

One of the things I've always hated about being a demigod is dreams. For someone who loves sleeping as much as I do, it gets really frustrating when you can't do it without having a nightmare.

I dreamed I was standing in a forest. A creek flowed calmly alongside me. A pile of boulders loomed to my right.

A steady growl drew my attention. In front of the boulders stood a boy maybe a few years younger than me, around twelve or so. From behind, all I could tell was that he had messy black hair and wore an orange t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He held a bronze sword in his hand, and was facing a hellhound that was perched on one of the boulders; obviously, that was the source of the growling. Unfortunately, I was far too familiar with aggressive hellhound noises. By hellhound standards, it was relatively small, but certainly no less threatening.

As I watched, the hounds leg muscles tensed, and it leapt straight at the boy. He cried out and raised his sword. The point stabbed the hellhound in the stomach at the same time as its claws raked across the boy's chest, mauling him, and even in my dream-state, I grimaced. They both fell backwards into the creek, the hound disintegrating into golden dust, the boy fatally wounded. There was a commotion around me, and dozens of people rushed onto the scene around me, most of them wearing armor over the same orange shirt the injured boy was wearing. There was a man on horseback who – I did a double-take. He wasn't on horseback, he was a centaur; the lower half of a horse, and the upper half of a man. I'd heard of them, of course, but never seen one with my own eyes. I stared openly. After all, I was in a dream – who was going to call me out?

A movement from the group of kids distracted me from the centaur. One of them stepped forward. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. A scar ran down his cheek from the corner of his right eye to his chin. He rushed to the boy's side, but there was nothing he could do, and from the look in his eyes, I knew he knew it. He said something to the boy that I couldn't hear.

All of a sudden, the creek bubbled. The water flowed over the boy's chest, and as we all watched, the wounds began to close. For the second time in as many minutes, I couldn't stop my intent stare.

Apparently, neither could the other kids, but they were staring at something else. The boy was now sitting up, and everyone was gawking at a symbol that I noticed had just appeared over his head. It was a glowing sea-green trident.

The dream dissolved and shifted. Now, I was standing in some kind of cave, surrounded by darkness. I never usually minded darkness before, but something about this felt different. It felt oppressive, suffocating… absolute. I seemed to be floating above some kind of pit. I sensed a presence stirring in the shadows below me, and then a voice spoke. The voice was like broken glass dipped in a bucket of ice water, cold and sharp, and it sent shivers down my spine. It was ancient, and resonated with power.

 _We finally meet, child_. An evil laugh echoed around me. I wanted to respond, but I couldn't get the words out past the lump in my throat. I wanted to turn and run, to end the dream, but my limbs felt like lead.

 _Krios has failed, I see. Not only did he allow you to escape, he foolishly drew the attention of the one being that could protect you._ I had no idea what the voice was talking about, but if it knew Krios, it definitely wasn't a presence I wanted to be acquainted with. I tried desperately to tune it out, to wake myself up, but I couldn't. I was trapped.

 _I had hoped you would join me before your fate came to pass, but I see now that was never possible. Your mother's influence, even if only at a subconscious level, is too great. Beware the shadows, little demigod. It's a shame your power will go to waste… but if you will not join, you will die. Farewell, Orion Allen._

The name triggered memories of my time with Krios. The scars on my back stung, as if remembering the cruel touch of the whip. Knives of pain stabbed into my chest like icicles, and my insides felt like they'd been frozen, then microwaved. I gritted my teeth and tried to force the memories down, but it didn't seem to work. I heard the voice laughing at me again, felt the pain intensify, and then I was gone. Before the dream faded, I had the beautifully ironic thought that only I would find a way to black out during a blackout.


	2. Chapter 2: Truth, Part 1

**Hey guys. Now I don't want to set a precedent of quick updates because I have no idea how long future chapters are going to take, but I finished this chapter a lot sooner than I expected. Originally, this chapter and the next one were going to be one chapter, but when I got to, like, almost 15,000 words, I decided it would probably be best to split it up so I figured I'd go ahead and upload this chapter.**

 **Something I wanted to note before someone flames me for it: I'm not going to have** **Zoë speak in Old English in this story. It's extremely awkward to write and it was something that just always bothered me a bit about her character. I know it's technically OOC, but hey, artistic license and all that; we'll just assume that like the rest of the Hunters, her English has adapted with the time.**

 **Like always, let me know what you think. Suggestions and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO - or the random _Matrix_ quote I couldn't resist adding at the end.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Truth, Part 1

Artemis stepped out of the makeshift infirmary tent and shielded her face from the bright morning sunlight, rubbing her eyes in frustration. It had been a very stressful night. First, the Hunters' attempt to track an elusive manticore near Denver had failed and the monster had escaped. Then, they had followed a pack of hellhounds that had led them to the escaped Titan Krios, but he had fled before they could move in on him. To top it all off, her attempt to heal a male demigod they had found injured by Krios had partly failed as well, and because of that, she had to call on her brother Apollo, the god of healing.

She knew from experience that summoning her twin was just going to multiply her stress tenfold. It was bad enough when she had to deal with him on her own, but in the company of her Hunters… every flirtatious wink and suggestive comment towards her girls made her almost want to strangle him. She sighed. There was nothing for it, though. If she wanted the demigod she'd rescued to live, Apollo was the only one who could save him.

Trying to ignore the annoyance she knew would soon be forthcoming, she sent out a piece of her essence to locate her brother. It wasn't hard; as twins, they shared a connection beyond that of normal gods. She spoke directly into his mind.

 _This will likely be the only time I ever say this, but I need your help, brother. I rescued a demigod in the wild and he is dying from a poison that is beyond my ability to cure. Regrettably, that leaves me no choice but to ask you for help. Come swiftly; I fear he may not have much time left. Oh, and one more thing: it has been an extremely trying night and I am in no mood for your antics. If you flirt with my Hunters, I will castrate you._ She withdrew from his mind.

She turned back to the clearing where the Hunters had set up camp the night before, the same clearing where they'd found Krios and the demigod he'd fought. The day was calm and cool, the sun having just risen, and the trees in the woods around them were lush and green. The Hunters' tents were arranged in a circle around the edge of the glade, leaving a large opening in the middle, in the center of which was the fire pit. It wasn't cold enough to warrant a fire, though, so at the moment the dry logs in the pit were untouched.

Artemis decided that the best way to avoid Apollo flirting with her girls was just to make sure they didn't interact at all. She made her way around to each of the tents, letting her Hunters know that Apollo was on his way, and that if they wanted to, they could feel free to stay in their tents for the duration of his visit. None of the girls were very happy about his impending arrival, of course, but Artemis' offer to abstain from his presence cheered them up slightly. They treated Lord Apollo with grudging respect, as was his due as god of the sun and their mistress' brother, but that didn't mean they had to like him. Artemis couldn't really blame them for that. Apollo had his moments, but even she wanted to kill her twin sometimes.

Soon, Artemis felt him approaching. There was a sudden burst of light on the horizon and a red convertible Maserati Spyder with the top down appeared in the clearing with a blast of warmth, igniting the dormant wood in the fire pit. She watched as the driver's side door opened and Apollo climbed out. Her brother was in his seventeen-year-old form (he loved doing that when she was around, just to make him feel superior) with sunny blond hair and bright blue eyes, the color of the clear sky. His smile was as playful and dazzling as always, and she sighed inwardly. Apparently he wasn't taking her warning seriously, not that she could say she was surprised.

"Hey, little sis!" Apollo greeted brightly. "What's this about needed my magic healing touch?"

She groaned. "Apollo, we are twins. I thought we settled this millennia ago… you are _not_ older. We were born at the same time."

"Sure, sure. I think you're just in denial. Anyways, you said this kid was in a lot of trouble, right? Where's he at?"

Artemis sobered as she recalled the reason for Apollo's visit. "This way," she said, leading him to the infirmary tent. To her surprise, when they entered the tent, she found her lieutenant, Zoë Nightshade, kneeling next to the unconscious demigod, trying to coax him to eat another square of ambrosia. She looked up as she heard the godly twins approach and bowed to Artemis before giving Apollo a polite nod. He frowned at her, but said nothing. Zoë stood and quickly departed the tent. Apollo watched her go with a slightly disapproving look.

Then his gaze landed on the form on the cot and his eyes went wide with shock. His face paled and all traces of the mirth he'd had when he first arrived melted off his expression. "Oh, no," he breathed. Artemis stared slack-jawed at her brother. She had never seen him this serious in all the thousands of years she had known him, and it worried her immensely. Not only that, but he seemed to recognize the injured half-blood.

"Brother, how –?" she started to ask, but Apollo cut her off.

"I'm sorry, sis, but this isn't the time or place," he said, his tone grave. "You asked me for a favor in coming here; now I need to ask you for one." Artemis nodded and waited. "Forget you ever saw this demigod."

Artemis shook her head, baffled. "Apollo, I know what that poison is," she argued. "I know what it's from. The monster has been dead for millennia, never to reform. How is this boy suffering from it?"

This time it was Apollo's turn to shake his head. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. All I _can_ tell you is that if you stay involved, it will only be more painful for you. I know you have more questions, but you have to believe me when I say you won't like the answers. So please, sis… let it go."

Artemis studied her brother for a minute longer. His jaw was firmly set, and his eyes… his eyes were devoid of any of his trademark playfulness. They were filled only with sadness and a tinge of regret. Finally, she nodded, and Apollo looked relieved, giving her a grateful look and a sad smile.

She carefully controlled her thoughts and expression so as not to let her brother know that she planned to disobey him. Even if he was right and it would just be painful, she had to know what was causing her twin to react like this. Beyond that, she thought she felt something familiar about the boy's essence. It was partly that which had drawn her to the clearing where they'd found Krios; they had only seen the hellhounds when they were already on the boy's trail. For some reason, the boy's presence felt almost like that of a Hunter, yet not as powerful or well-developed. It didn't make any sense. She could tell now beyond any doubt that Apollo knew the boy's identity, and she needed to know who he was and how her brother knew him. Apollo may not be willing to give her any answers, but she resolved to track down the boy once he was healed and confront him when he was alone.

Apollo bent down and gently lifted the boy off the cot. He hung limply in the sun god's arms. Artemis followed as he exited the tent and carried the boy back the sun chariot, laying him carefully in the passenger seat. Apollo vaulted nimbly over the driver's door and slid into the seat. He started the car, but before he flew off, he looked back at Artemis one more time. He started to say something, then apparently thought better of it, as he grimaced and turned away. The engine revved, and in a small inferno of light and warmth, the sun god, his car, and his charge shot off into the dawn sky.

When he had gone, Artemis turned to Zoë. "Tell the girls to break camp," she ordered. "Apollo may think he's doing what's best, but I intend to decide that for myself. As soon as possible, we're going after him and the boy." Zoë nodded and left to do as the moon goddess instructed. "In the meantime, though, I must report to the Council," Artemis muttered to herself. "Father needs to know what has transpired here." She decided she'd make her report after she tracked down the boy, so she trudged off to the nearest tent to help her Hunters disassemble the camp.

* * *

I've never been much of a morning person, but if I had a list of "Arrin's Top 5 Worst Ways to Start Your Day," let me tell you, this would definitely be number one.

I woke up with a scream. I was lying on something soft, and a warm blanket enveloped my body. I could still feel the phantom memory of the pain I'd suffered in my dream, as if all of my old wounds had been reopened, then rinsed with acid. My chest burned in too many places to count. And my back… I frowned in confusion. The song of the wild meandered pleasantly back into my head, and as it drove away the remnants of my dream, I realized my back felt fine. Better than fine, actually. My chest, too, felt better than it had in years, as if the knife marks had never been there. But I felt something else, too, something I hadn't noticed since back before Krios had captured me; a dull ache that seemed to be spread throughout my whole body.

"About time you woke up," a strangely familiar voice said gruffly. "Can you open your eyes?"

I figured I might as well give it a shot. My eyes felt like they'd been glued shut, but after a short struggle, I was able to slowly force them open. The first thing I noticed was that somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized my surroundings. I was in a small square cabin, the walls made of dark golden bricks. Each wall of the cabin was fifty feet long, if I remembered correctly, and there was a fire burning to my right. A cooking pot floated over it, supported by nothing. I breathed in deeply and my senses were bathed in the heavenly aroma of…

"Deer meat, cooked in a blend of garlic and grated parmesan cheese… your favorite, right?" I turned my head to the left to regard the speaker.

A man was sitting in a simple wooden chair next to my bedside. He was around thirty years old, with dirty blond hair and striking blue eyes like a clear summer day. He had stubble on his chin, and the hint of a mischievous grin tugged at his lips. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants with holes on the knees and a plain red t-shirt. "Fred?" I asked hopefully.

His grin broke through in full force, and I matched it. "The one and only," he said. "How you feelin', kid?"

"Well, let's see." I pretended to think carefully. "I've escaped from an evil Titan, been reunited with my old mentor, and my injuries have been almost fully healed, from what I can tell, so I'd say I feel pretty damn good. How long have I been out?"

Fred's grin seemed to lose some of its luster as I mentioned my wounds, and inwardly I frowned, wondering if there was something he wasn't telling me. "Three days," he answered. "You were in quite a bit of trouble, you know. If hadn't been for…" he hesitated. "Ah, nevermind, I'll tell you later. The point is you're here now, and you're awake. What do you remember?"

I thought back to the night where I'd managed to escape from Krios' palace. "Most of it, I think," I said. "I remember breaking out of the palace. I remember the chase through the woods, and the clearing where I fought Krios. I remember getting knocked into a tree a few times" – here I rubbed the back of my head, instinctively searching for a knot – "and then hearing a hunting horn, before I passed out. Then I woke up here. Care to fill in the gaps for me?" I looked at Fred, and he seemed thoughtful, as if debating how much to tell me, and I frowned inwardly again.

After a while, he said, "The horn you heard came from the Hunters of Artemis. Titans have a powerful aura, and the Hunters were drawn to your fight with Krios. They found you passed out but not majorly wounded, until they realized your back was bleeding." I winced involuntarily, and Fred's eyes hardened. "Your torso was a mess. Front and back. What happened to you? Artemis had to call me to come heal you because she couldn't – " He stopped himself, but I was already calling for an interruption.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute," I said, holding my hands up in a _time-out_ gesture. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why would Artemis, an Olympian goddess, need _your_ help to heal me?" He started to say something, but I cocked an eyebrow at him and his protests died in this throat.

He sighed. "Look, Arrin, I'm sorry. But I guess it was bound to happen eventually. The truth is, my name isn't Fred, as you may have already guessed. It's Apollo."

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. At first, I thought this was another one of his infamous jokes, but then I saw the uncharacteristically serious look in his eyes and I knew he was telling the truth. I cleared my throat. "So let me get this straight…" I said slowly. "You're telling me that for years, the mentor I looked up to as a father figure was actually the god of the sun, healing, music, poetry, prophecy, etc.?"

Apollo had the decency to look guilty. "The one and only," he confirmed, shooting me an apologetic look. "I would have told you if I could, but I had to be careful. Zeus is rather strict when it comes to interfering in mortal affairs. He'll usually overlook it as long as we don't go overboard, but, well… I guess you could say what I was doing was quite a ways past what might be considered 'overboard.' I mean, I basically raised you since you were a toddler – Father doesn't exactly approve of us gods having that large of an influence on the lives of demigods."

I listened to his explanation in contemplative silence. It made sense, what he said. I had heard about something called the Ancient Laws before, the laws forbidding interference among mortals. I could definitely see how what Apollo had done was in gross and epic violation of probably every single one in the book, which would put him in a very awkward position if Zeus ever found out. Still… I didn't like people lying to me, especially someone as close to me as Fred/Apollo had been, _especially_ hiding something as back as that. I understood his reasons, but I didn't know if I was ready to forgive him just yet.

Also, there was another thought tugging at the back of my brain. If what he said was true, and it really _had_ been him that had watched over me all those years, that begged the all-important question: why? What reason could Apollo possibly have had to risk Zeus' wrath in spending all that time and effort just to watch over some random demigod?

I voiced my question out loud, and it seemed to catch Apollo by surprise. I caught a flash of panic in his eyes before he masked it with his usual cheerfulness.

"Well, let's just say, I owed someone a favor, and I thought taking care of you might be a good way to repay it," he said smoothly. I carefully scanned his face, looking for anything in his expression that might give away the truth. He met my eyes easily enough, but I could still tell he was hiding something. That might have been part of the truth, but there was no way I was going to believe that was the whole truth.

But I shrugged and gave him a simple, "Ah, okay," and Apollo seemed to relax a bit. Whatever it was, I figured he'd tell me when I needed to know. He'd never kept anything important from me for very long. _Except the fact that he's a god_ , my brain pointed out. I did my best to ignore it.

We lapsed into a slightly awkward silence. Even though my wounds seemed to have been healed, my limbs were stiff – a side effect of being unconscious for three days, I assumed – and I longed to make good on my newfound freedom and go hunting in the woods I knew surrounded Apollo's cabin. As I was about to attempt getting up from the bed, "Rock You Like a Hurricane" started blaring from the sun god's right pants pocket. I raised my eyebrow at him, like _Really?_ He stuck his tongue out at me and reached into his pocket to pull out his iPhone. Like most of Apollo's possessions, the back was solid gold and seemed to glow in the firelight of the cabin.

"Yellow?" Apollo said into the phone, and I closed my eyes and shook my head in exasperation. Honestly, there was no limit to his corniness sometimes. "Really? Hmm. Yes, I think I can. Alright. Yes, I get it. Will do. See ya, Pops!" He hung up the phone and turned to me. "Sorry kid, that was the Pops. Duty calls. I gotta be on Olympus for a council meeting. I can tell you're itching to get back into the woods; go for it, but be careful. Your back and chest haven't fully recovered yet, so don't strain yourself too hard. I'll try to keep an eye on you while I'm at the meeting." I nodded, and he stood. His sweatpants and t-shirt morphed into a red tracksuit with a golden sun emblazoned on the left breast. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, gave me his trademark dazzling smile, then began to glow. I averted my eyes as he revealed his true immortal form and vanished in a flash of golden light.

I climbed out of the bed and stretched, trying to dispel the perpetual ache in my body that I'd noticed when I first woke up. Was it my imagination, or was it starting to feel stronger? I shrugged and walked over to where my woolen pack was hanging in its old spot on a hook on the wall. Apollo must have recovered it from the woods the day I got captured by Krios all those years ago.

For the first time, I wondered how Apollo had felt while I was gone. Was he worried for me? Did he even know I hadn't left of my own will? Did he know what had happened to me? The thought left a bitter taste of resentment in my mouth. If he _did_ know, why hadn't he tried to rescue me? I decided that as kind to me as he'd been, despite lying to me about his identity, Apollo deserved for me to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was a god, but that didn't necessarily mean he knew everything. Most likely, he may have known I'd been kidnapped, but he probably didn't know exactly who had taken me or where I'd been imprisoned.

 _He's the god of prophecy,_ my brain reminded me. _Of course he knew._

 _Shut up,_ I told it.

Trying to shake myself out of those morbid thoughts, I grabbed my pack and rifled through it, making sure all my old supplies were still there. I noticed my silver hunting knife in its sheath, and I smiled and pulled it out before tying it onto my belt at my right hip. My baggie of ambrosia and canteen of nectar for emergencies were both fortunately still intact, as was my enchanted tent, folded into a thick square the size of a pocket handkerchief (a gift from Apollo once he started letting me hunt on my own). And buried at the bottom of my pack was the thing I'd missed most – my hunting garb. I gave an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp, which fortunately Apollo was not around to hear, and excitedly yanked it out.

The fabric of the tunic was soft as silk and flexible, but I knew from experience that it offered more protection than it seemed. It was mostly black, to help me camouflage in the darkness of a nighttime hunt, and lined with silver stitching. The pants were the same. I quickly pulled off my belt and stripped off the plain brown outfit that was a painful reminder of my captivity, hurriedly stepping into the pants and pulling the tunic over my head. Then I tied my belt back around my waist and let out a contented sigh.

I was almost giddy with happiness. For the first time in three years, I had the freedom to partake in my absolute favorite pastime: wandering carefree and aimlessly through the woods in search of something to hunt down and kill. A typical hobby for any self-respecting demigod.

I strode over to the door and opened it, breathing in the scent of the forest I'd known for so long. I stepped outside and felt a tingle as I passed through Apollo's protective enchantment. My eyes swept across the landscape in front of me, drinking in the view I'd been deprived of for so long.

To the left and behind me, the line of cliffs was just as I remembered it, with a stepped path winding down to the lake below. The water was a pristine azure, reflecting the beauty of the unblemished morning sky. It sparkled like flawless glass under the light of the pre-noon sun. Across the lake, the ground sloped down in a ridge and the forest continued unimpeded into the distance. For a moment, as I gazed over the water to the far shore, I thought I saw a glimpse of sunlight reflecting off something silver, but when I tried to look closer, there was nothing there. I shrugged and dismissed it as a trick of the light. In front of me and to my right, the tress stretched across the horizon in either direction as far as I could see. I restrained the urge to bolt off into the forest and walked forward at a steady brisk pace. I could hear the call of the hunt in my head, sharpening my instincts and heightening my senses. Finally, I couldn't hold myself back any longer, and with a joyful cry, I sprinted off into the woods.

Using my connection with the wild, I was able to sense a group of deer grazing in a clearing a few miles away from me, and I started heading in their direction. After I had been running for a few minutes, I began to feel an unusual weariness seep through me, like all my energy was draining away from the inside, and the ache in my body grew to a steady throbbing. I chalked it up to the fact that I hadn't fully recovered my stamina yet, after three years in captivity and a punishing fight with a Titan, so I didn't think too much of it.

I continued on the trail of the deer I'd sensed earlier, noting that something seemed to have startled them. They had ceased their grazing and were turning their heads wildly, making concerned animal noises (what sound does a deer make, anyway?). I frowned. I didn't think I was close enough for them to detect my presence yet, but it seemed like they had, because they were now running around in frantic circles like a bunch of headless chickens.

I grumbled something to myself about over-perceptive wildlife and increased my pace, trying to reach the herd before they dispersed entirely. I was almost to the clearing when something crashed into my side, knocking me painfully to the ground. Thanks to the unrivaled reactions of yours truly, I recovered quickly and rolled onto my feet, casting my eyes around to search for what had hit me.

It didn't take long. A few feet in front of me stood a humanoid figure, obviously female, with twin serpent trunks instead of legs. Her skin from the waist up was a sickly shade of green. She gazed hungrily at me with slitted vertical pupils, like a snake, and her forked tongue occasionally darted out of her mouth to lick the air. She carried a five-foot-long spear with a bronze tip. I grimaced. I remembered Apollo teaching me about these creatures; Scythian _dracanae,_ I think he called them. As I watched, more _dracanae_ appeared, seemingly emerging from the shadows of the trees around me, until a full dozen had me surrounded.

Don't get me wrong, I've been in some decidedly unfavorable life-or-death situations before, but alone in the middle of a forest, cornered by a bunch of monstrous snake women? I have to say, that was not something I'd ever anticipated having to deal with.

The _dracanae_ that had knocked me over stepped forward and fixed me with her inhuman, slit-pupiled glare. "Moon sssspawn," she hissed, drawing out the "s" sound. "Our masssster Kronossss hasss given ussss the pleasure of taking care of you oursssselvessss. Your death will be the firssst coursssse of many. When Kronossss has risssen again, we will feasssst."

My veins felt like they'd filled with liquid nitrogen. With a shiver, my mind involuntarily recalled Krios' daily offer that always began our ritualistic routine. _Join Kronos, and you will have everything you could ever want. Turn against the gods. What have they ever done for you? They have left you here, at my mercy, and done nothing. None of them have even bothered to claim you as their own. You can stop this pain, Orion; all you have to do is pledge yourself to my brother and I._ Each day, my answer was the same, and each day, Krios would sigh and bring out either the whip or the knife, depending on his mood.

I remembered my dream of the voice in the pit, lamenting that Krios had failed in convincing me to join him and warning me to watch my back. With a start, I began to piece together the bits of information I had been given from Krios, my dream, and the _dracanae_. I finally recalled the story of Kronos: how Zeus had chopped him up with his own scythe and cast him into Tartarus. I realized the shadowy pit in my dream must have been Tartarus, which meant the voice… I shuddered. The light of the sun seemed to dim. This must have been what Kronos had been talking about when he threatened me. He had sent some of his followers, these _dracanae,_ to destroy me in return for refusing to join him.

The _dracanae_ started to advance towards me, licking their lips. Maybe it was a childlike and petulant thought, but the unfairness of it all seemed to crash down on me in that instant. I had escaped from the horrors of Krios' palace, survived a fight with said Titan himself, and just when I thought I was home free, back in my natural element, a horde of humanoid dragon monsters showed up to kill me. An indescribable rage filled me, and the song of the wild in my head swelled in volume until it drowned out the world around me. My body began to let off a faint silver glow. I summoned my katana effortlessly, with barely a flicker of thought. If I'd been thinking straight, I might have stopped to marvel at how easily I'd done it, but it's probably better I didn't seeing as I was still at risk of becoming snake chow.

The monsters hesitated at the sight of my sword, like Krios had done, but then they seemed to remember that there were twelve of them and only one of me. They continued forward, hissing.

At this point, I let my training from Apollo take over. My legs tensed and extended, sending me leaping towards the nearest _dracanae._ I cut her in half and she dissolved before she could so much as cry out in surprise. The rest of the skirmish was a blur. I jumped and hacked, rolled and slashed, pirouetted and decapitated. A few _dracanae_ managed to make contact with the points of their spears, but I barely noticed the wounds. I just kept going, and soon, all that was left of the monsters was a slight haze of golden dust that was blown away by the morning breeze even as I watched.

I came down from whatever magical high I'd been riding. My katana disappeared. All of a sudden, the sense of weariness I'd noticed earlier swept over me. I felt like I'd just finished running suicides in the Sahara desert at mid-afternoon in July. My joints were stiff and my muscles felt like jelly. My knees buckled and I slumped against a nearby tree. Dimly, I thought that I probably should be concerned, but my mind was sluggish from fatigue. Then the pain hit.

I was no stranger to suffering, but this was agony unlike anything I had ever felt before. My blood seared my veins like liquid fire. My head was pounding. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. It felt like my whole body was ripping apart from the inside out.

There was a flash of light, and I caught a glimpse of a figure in a tracksuit jumping out of a floating, glowing red Maserati as my vision began to fade, and I thought I must be hallucinating.

Then I stopped caring, because I passed out. I decided I really needed to stop making a habit of this.

* * *

To say Artemis' father was unhappy would have been the understatement of the century.

Artemis stood in the center of the throne room of Olympus. Most of the twelve were present, but notably absent were Hephaestus, Hera, and Ares. The atmosphere in the hall was tense, as the Olympians listened to the moon goddess' troubling news.

The king of the gods sat on his marble throne in his typical gray pinstripe suit. Little lightning bolts flickered through his neatly trimmed beard, showing his displeasure. His stern, chiseled face regarded his daughter, who was kneeling in front of him, with a vexed look.

"A Titan, you say?" he rumbled. "Are you certain?"

Artemis stood. "Yes, Father," she answered. "I saw Krios with my own eyes. I fought him myself during the first Titan War; I would not easily forget his face."

"If that is indeed the case," Athena spoke up, her storm-grey eyes regarding the others pensively, "It would be prudent to keep careful watch on the others in the Pit. If the rest of the captive Titans were to escape…"

The other Olympians shifted uneasily. All of them remembered the Titan War, and none of them wanted a repeat of the carnage it caused.

Zeus didn't look convinced. "Preposterous! The Titans are secure in their respective prisons. We would know if they were to break out."

"With all due respect, Father," Artemis said. "Krios _has_ escaped, and until three nights ago, none of us were aware of that fact. I think it would be wise to at least remain on guard."

The Lord of the Skies still didn't seem like he wanted to accept the fact that he could be wrong, but most of the other gods were nodding in agreement with Artemis. Zeus grumbled, but said, "Very well. If that is all…"

"Actually, Father, there is something else." Artemis was about to tell him about the half-blood she'd rescued from the Titan, but she happened to glance at Apollo. Her brother had been staring intently into her eyes, and as she finally turned to him, he gave a subtle shake of his head. The message was clear: _I told you to let it go_. So she sighed inwardly and instead, she said, "I request your permission to hunt down Krios and interrogate him. I wish to know how he escaped from Tartarus and what he plans to do now that he is back in the mortal world. The information would be valuable; the last thing we need is a Titan causing havoc among the mortals."

After considering the idea for a moment, Zeus reluctantly nodded. "I do not like this, but I will grant your request. Be careful, daughter. Council adjourned." Artemis bowed, and Zeus vanished in a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, leaving behind the sharp smell of ozone. The rest of the Olympians departed as well, until the twin archers were the only deities left in the throne room.

Apollo stepped down from his throne and shrunk into human form to match his sister. Artemis watched him cautiously as he approached; he seemed displeased. A scowl was etched on his face. His flame-red tracksuit was glowing slightly, and the sun emblem on the left side of his chest now sported a small, live flame. His eyes were smoldering.

"Do you not understand the meeting of 'Let it go'?" he demanded. Artemis resisted the urge to shout back at him. It had been ages since he was this angry with her, and she had no desire to get into a full-fledged argument. "I meant what I said the other night. You need to stay away, Artemis." His voice softened a bit and his scowl lessened. "I'm just trying to protect you, sis. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I believe I am quite capable of protecting myself," she said coldly.

Apollo looked at her sadly. "Not when it comes to this."

"Why are you so adamant in denying me the answers I seek?"

"If you knew, you would understand why I cannot tell you."

She clenched her fists. "So help me, Apollo, I –" She stopped.

Apollo's jaw had suddenly tightened, and his eyes had gone wide with shock and panic. His hands trembled at his sides. Before she could ask him what was happening, he vanished in a flash of golden light.

Artemis stood rooted to the floor, staring confusedly at the spot her brother had just occupied a second earlier, her anger forgotten. She didn't know what had caused her brother to disappear so abruptly, but she _did_ know that one way or another, she was going to get her answers. It was time to pay a visit to a certain young demigod.

* * *

Thankfully, my unconsciousness this time was undisturbed by nightmares, and I came to back in my bed in Apollo's cabin.

The pain I'd suffered before I blacked out had subsided back to a dull ache. My joints and muscles were still stiff, and my brain felt like it had been put through a wash cycle on high. My eyes flickered open. Apparently, I'd been out most of the day. The fire had burned down to embers. Soft, pink light from the setting sun filtered in through the western window, framing Apollo in an ethereal glow. Apt, considering he was god of the sun, but he didn't much look the part right now. He was leaning tiredly against the wall next to the window, staring absently out into the dusk. I'd never seen him so distracted, and an uncomfortable hypothesis, something I'd suspected since my escape from Krios, started to take root in my mind.

I cleared my throat to let him know I was awake. Apollo turned and regarded me silently for a moment. "I thought I said not to strain yourself too much," he said blandly.

"Yes, well…" I coughed. "Not of all of us can vaporize a bunch of dragon-snake-women-thingies without raising a finger. Besides, you know I've never been good at listening to you."

He grunted. "This isn't about me, or your capacity to annoy me. This is about you recklessly risking your life when you have injuries that haven't even healed yet!"

"There is no way you're actually putting this on me!" I ask you, the _nerve_ of him! I'd been awake for less than a minute and he was already starting an argument! "You told me I could go out and hunt, so I did. It's not like I _asked_ to get ambushed by a squad of _dracanae_. That was a kill-or-be-killed situation, buddy, so I did what I had to do." He deflated somewhat, like he'd already realized he was being unfair in blaming me for something out of my control. I calmed a little bit and decided to test my depressing hypothesis. "But it doesn't matter either way, does it?"

Apollo tried his best to look confused, but I caught the look of sadness on his face before he could hide it. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

I decided not to beat around the bush. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

The sun god stared at me like I'd just said, _Medusa is a supermodel_. Then he laughed, but I detected a hint of nervousness in it. "That's crazy," he said. "Where would you get that idea?"

I could tell he was doing his best to maintain his composure, and his behavior just made me more certain I was right. I didn't need him to try and shield me from the truth or make me feel better; I needed him to take this seriously. As much discomfort as it might cause me to dredge up memories of my captivity, I decided it was time for some real talk. "Apollo," I said sternly. "Do you know what Krios did to me while I was imprisoned at his palace?" Apollo's laughter died, replaced by a solemn look, and he shook his head. "Every day, he'd wake me up by dunking my head in a bucket of ice water. Then he'd give me an offer. It varied from day to day, but the gist was always the same: 'Join Kronos, help him rise and destroy the Olympians, and we will give you everything you could ever want. Refuse, and you will suffer.' Obviously, I'd refuse. From there, he'd alternate between two different forms of 'punishment,' he'd call it, but it was essentially just torture. Some days, he flogged my back until there was almost no skin left. Other days, he coated a set of throwing knives with pit scorpion venom and used my chest as target practice. One thing was the same, though. No matter what method of torture he used, he always brought me right to the edge of death. He may have even actually killed me a few times. But each night, he'd lay me down in a golden sarcophagus and I'd fall unconscious, and when I woke up the next morning, I'd be healed. Not fully, of course – he wanted to make sure that my wounds would always haunt me. But it would restore enough of my strength so that I could survive another day of torment."

Apollo looked like he wanted to interject, but I wasn't finished yet. "The _point_ is that Krios used to taunt me with the knowledge that the sarcophagus' magic was the only thing keeping me alive. I used to think that meant that without my nightly healing, all the torture wounds he'd inflicted on me would reopen and I would bleed out. And as far as I know, that _is_ what happened the night I fought Krios, at least according to you. You and Artemis were able to seal them with your own healing magic, so I figured that was that. But ever since I woke up this morning, I've felt an ache throughout my whole body, and it grew more pronounced as the day went on, until what happened in the woods."

"The pain that I felt when I collapsed… that was more intense than anything Krios ever did to me. Between that, Krios' comments, and those guarded looks of yours I've caught over the past day… I figured there had to be something else going on. Something worse, that Krios obviously knew about. Give me a straight answer, Apollo, because I know you know, too. Am I dying?" I suppose it was a little risky talking so disrespectfully to a god, but at this point, I was beyond caring. I knew he was hiding something, and if it had something to do with what was happening to me, you could be gods-damned sure I was going to get it out of him.

All the fight seemed to drain out of him, and once again, his face settled into an expressionless mask. "Yes, you are dying," he said flatly.

So there it was, the answer I'd been dreading. "I see." I paused. "How?"

"Your body is being destroyed by a potent poison. The most deadly poison I've ever seen, in fact, and I've only known it to come from one source. But it doesn't just affect your body; it corrodes your soul, your very life force. For years, it was dormant in your blood, but over time, its power has grown with yours. The symptoms should have started to manifest years ago, but Krios' sarcophagus magic held it back once it had the strength to actually start causing damage. That kind of Titan magic, though… it's not meant for mortals. I suspect that even though it held the toxin in stasis, that likely caused its power to compound and build up, like water behind a dam. Now that the dam is broken, the pressure is released and the river is starting to flow faster and stronger than ever. The poison will begin feeding on your soul. I have a feeling, based on what happened today, that it already has. Eventually, it will completely dissolve your soul, and you will simply… fade into oblivion."

If you believe all that baloney about the truth setting you free, I should have been happy to accept my fate and move on. In a way, I suppose I did. But there was something about the inevitability of Apollo's statement – I was going to die, and soon – that made it difficult to fully comprehend. I had suspected, of course, but hearing it spoken out loud didn't make me feel better. It just made me feel numb.

Was this someone's idea of a cruel joke? After all I'd been through at the hands of Krios, I'd finally managed to escape his clutches, only to find out I was going to die anyway.

I managed to find my voice and asked the million-drachma question. "How long do I have?"

The sun god wouldn't meet my eyes. "If you were to lay in bed, expending no energy… maybe a week? It should have been longer, but like I said… Krios' magic has unnaturally caused the poison's power to build like pressurized gas in a valve, and it's become much stronger than it should be."

A week. I had a week left to live. What are you supposed to say to something like that?

Apollo seemed like he, too, was grasping for something to say. He slumped down into the chair next to my bed. He tried to resort to faux cheerfulness. "It could be worse, right?" he offered. I stared at him and raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you could be spending it unconscious or in excruciating pain, like…" he trailed off as he realized he wasn't really helping, and I continued to glare at him. He sighed. "Arrin, I'm sorry, alright? I'm not good at this kind of thing. I don't like knowing you have an injury I can't do anything to heal."

I couldn't help but laugh hoarsely at him. "So this is about your pride now?"

He shook his head and sighed again. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He finally looked up. "I just meant… I feel responsible for you. I'm the god of healing, and knowing that someone I care for is right here in front of me, dying of a wound I can't heal…" I understood. This must be almost as bad for him as it was for me…. who am I kidding? No one had it worse than me. But I've never been one for self-pity, and I couldn't help but get hung up on something he'd said.

 _I feel responsible for you._ I was reminded of our conversation when I woke up in his cabin the last time, recovering from my reopened torture wounds. He'd talked about how he'd needed to hide his identity because he'd broken the Ancient Laws in order to watch over me and raise me. I couldn't help but wonder about the reason for the obligation he felt towards me. Well, now that I knew my days were numbered, I guess it was as good a time to ask as any.

"Apollo," I said, "Why is it that you feel responsible for me? What about me could have possibly convinced you to so blatantly disregard the Ancient Laws just to take care of me?"

The sun god, still lounging uncomfortably in the chair, seemed to age ten years. Then I realized his human form actually _was_ aging, and it didn't even look like he noticed it was happening. He ran a hand through his suddenly gray-streaked blond hair and rubbed his temples. The twilight began to fade as the world transitioned fully into night, so Apollo waved his hand at the fire pit and the embers reignited.

"This is going to be a lot to take in," he warned. "But given the circumstances, I think you deserve to know the truth." He looked up from the fire pit and met my eyes, sky-blue to silver. "Before I start, I want you to tell me something, Arrin." I nodded and motioned for him to go on. "Haven't you ever wondered why you feel so at home in the woods, hunting? How you can summon your katana, and especially your bow and arrows? Haven't you ever questioned why the moon seems to fill you with energy?"

I snorted. "What kind of question is that? Of course I have." I felt a knot begin to form in my gut as I thought I was starting to realize where this was headed.

"I'd be surprised if you weren't starting to slowly figure it out on your own." Damn him, he's good. "The reason you can do all those things is because they are aspects of your Olympian parent, your mother. You can feel the song of the Hunt – the capital-h Hunt. And I don't think you need me to remind you of the goddess who controls those domains, do you?"

Too right he didn't. I thought back to when I'd fought the _dracanae_ ; I hadn't been paying enough attention to notice it at the time, but the leader had called me "moon spawn." The light bulb went off. I shook my head. "That's impossible," I said. "She's a _maiden goddess_. You do know the terms _maiden_ and _mother_ are mutually exclusive, right?"

Apollo rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Of course I know that. Nonetheless, Artemis _is_ your mother. You asked me why I've gone to such lengths to care for you… now you know. You're my sister's son." I let that sink in for a minute. I must have had an incredulous look on my face (can you blame me?), because Apollo continued, "Oh, come on, Arrin. My sister and I are gods; is the idea of immaculate birth such an outlandish concept?"

It wasn't, really. There were definitely stranger things I could come up with. I think part of me just didn't want to accept the fact that the man-hating, eternal virgin goddess of the moon was actually my mother. She must find it insulting; immaculate conception or no, to have a child as a maiden goddess, and a male one at that… was that why she had ignored me all these years?

"It's not like that," Apollo said suddenly.

I scowled at him. "You know I don't like it when you do that. It's an invasion of privacy."

He shrugged. "She doesn't think you're an insult, and she hasn't been ignoring you. It's just that…ah… she may not exactly be, uh, aware of your existence." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

Alright, I admit, I was thoroughly confused now. It was one thing to wrap my head around the idea of a virgin goddess being my mother, but now he expected me to believe she didn't even know I'd been born (if indeed I was "born")? Besides, she was the one who found me in the woods during my fight with Krios. I said as much to Apollo.

"That's true," the sun god acknowledged. "But she didn't know who you were. She still doesn't. She called me to heal you, and as soon as I saw it was you, I carried you back here before she could figure anything out."

"You were actively hiding my identity from her? Why?"

He pondered something for a second before seemingly coming to a decision. "I know it's a lot to comprehend, and explaining the rest would take too long, so I have a better idea. Instead of telling you, I'll show you."

I swear, this day was getting weirder and weirder. "How exactly do you plan to do that?"

"Well, it's a bit like what I do when I read your mind, except that instead of entering yours, I'll be inviting you to mine and sharing my memories. Make sense?"

"Not really."

"Eh, it will once you're inside my head."

"You know, I'm not entirely sure I _want_ to be inside your head."

"Har har," Apollo grumbled. He sobered abruptly. "Actually, that reminds me. The truth about your birth… I can't promise you're going to like what you see. I have an inkling of how you're feeling" – he couldn't, really, but I decided not to mention that – "and if you need some time to digest everything that's already come up today, I can understand. So before I share this with you, I need to know: are you sure you want to do this?"

"Well, let's see." I did my best to sound upbeat as I pretended to think for a minute. "I've just found out that I've got approximately a week to live and that my mother is Artemis, the maiden goddess of the Hunt – who, coincidentally, doesn't even know I exist. I really don't think one more earth-shattering revelation is going to be too much for me to handle."

My words had been sarcastic, but there _was_ underlying truth in them, and Apollo seemed to recognize that. He nodded. "Alright then," he said. "This is going to feel… a little weird." He reached out his hand and pressed it carefully to my forehead. I felt a disorienting sense of vertigo as the world blurred and spun around me, Apollo's memories streaming into my mind.


	3. Chapter 3: Truth, Part 2

**A few notes on chronology: originally, I had intended for this story to take place simultaneously with _The Lightning Thief_ and go from there. However, I decided not to do that, for reasons which will become clear as the story advances. IIRC, _Sea of Monsters_ takes place in July (I know it's sometime in the summer) and _Titan's Curse_ is set in December of the same year. For my purposes, this story is set in early November of that same year (so roughly a month before the events of _Titan's Curse_ ). As a result of this change, I had to go back and make a few small changes to the first two chapters so that they fit the timeline correctly.**

 **This chapter and the next chapter will conclude the majority of the sort of introductory stuff and the story should start picking up in the next few chapters.**

 **As always, enjoy, and don't forget to review. I appreciate suggestions for ideas and constructive criticism.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Truth, Part 2

Struck by a foul mood after her trip to Olympus, Artemis didn't immediately return to the Hunters' camp once her business in the throne room was finished. Instead, she decided to venture into the woods and clear her head.

She found a tree with a trunk that was thick enough to serve her purposes and summoned her bow. As she drew the string back, a silver arrow materialized on it. She carefully sighted her aim and released the arrow. With a satisfying _plunk,_ it landed right in the center of a small woodpecker hole in the tree trunk. She quickly nocked another arrow and fired it within a second of the first. It split the first arrow straight down the middle.

Whenever Artemis had a lot on her mind, she would always turn to archery. The repetitive nature of her favorite pastime soothed her and helped her think. After thousands of years of practice, she didn't even need to consciously think about what she was doing; her body moved on its own, leaving her mind free to wander.

She thought back to her conversation with Apollo in the throne room. His adamant refusal to tell her anything both baffled and frustrated her, and his assertions that he was doing it to protect her did not at all placate her. She grimaced. She could recall plenty of times where, acting out of his own misguided desire to protect her, he had ended up causing her no end of grief. The Orion situation sprang to mind.

Artemis quickly quelled that thought. Those were emotions she absolutely did not need to dredge up right now, of all times. Two thousand years still hadn't managed to fully heal that scar on her soul, though she had forgiven her brother long ago, and all of it could have been avoided if Apollo had trusted that she could make her own decisions. Instead, he'd taken it out of her hands.

Part of the problem was that she couldn't imagine how simple information about the boys' identity could be so dangerous. After all, she was a goddess. Additionally, she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that whatever was going on, she deserved – no, she _needed_ – to have a part in it.

That's why she'd followed him here, to these woods. She wasn't sure exactly where they were, but based on several factors, she figured it was somewhere in the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York. Over the past three days, she'd led her Hunters east, following the call of boy's essence. It hadn't taken her long to discover that her senses were leading her to her brother's aura, as well. Apparently, wherever he'd taken the boy, they were still together.

As they'd passed through Ohio on the second day, a strange thought had occurred to Artemis. She could sense the boy's essence almost as strongly as she felt Apollo's. She hadn't thought much of it when she'd first started tracking him – she just assumed it was because of his close proximity to her brother – but now she wondered. What was the reason for the familiarity she felt in his aura? Why could she detect him so easily?

The sun began to sink, plunging the woods into dusk. Reluctantly, Artemis pulled herself back into reality. The ground around the tree in front of her was littered with fragments of broken silver arrows, proof of her incredible accuracy. Only one shaft was still embedded in the trunk; each of her shots had split the previous one and shattered it. She lowered her bow and waved her hand at the mess she'd created, and the scattered arrow remains dissolved into silver dust and blew away.

The moon goddess turned away and resolved to confront her brother and his charge tonight. With her mind set, she vanished in a flash of silver light, reappearing a second later in her tent in the Hunters' encampment.

They had arrived on the morning of the fourth day since departing from Colorado. Before Artemis had gone to deliver her report to Olympus, she had helped the Hunters set up camp at the top of a forested ridge at the edge of small lake. Across the water, a line of granite cliffs towered a hundred feet above them. Now, in the fading dusk glow, the shapes of the trees that extended around the lake were little more than indistinct shadows. But there was another silhouette that stood out amongst the tall, thin trunks: a small cabin that shone dully in the twilight, nestled in the forest at the top of the cliff.

Artemis had to hand it to her brother; for a godly dwelling, it was remarkably humble. Aside from the fact that it was constructed of golden bricks, it was a simple enough home. It was a perfect square, fifty feet by fifty feet, with a pyramidal roof. A short chimney rose from the side of the near slope of the roof, a few tendrils of smoke curling lazily out the top. It certainly had none of the grandiose size or blatant ostentatiousness that Apollo's temples usually featured.

She couldn't help but wonder if her brother and her quarry were actually here, or if her mind was playing tricks on her. Once she thought about it, though, it made perfect sense. If Apollo really did want to avoid her, a nondescript cabin in the woods in the Middle of Nowhere, New York seemed like a pretty likely place to go. Besides, she'd tracked their essences here, and there was no way she could be wrong about that.

A polite cough sounded at the entrance flap of her tent. "Enter," Artemis called.

Zoë Nightshade stepped into the tent. Her long, dark hair was draped across one shoulder. The silver lieutenant's circlet braided into it gleamed brightly in the light of the fire crackling in Artemis' hearth. Her copper-colored skin gave off a faint silver glow, the only outward sign of her blessing from the goddess of the Hunt. She bowed respectfully to the goddess as she approached, but Artemis waved her off.

"I have told you before, Zoë," she said softly. "Family does not bow to family."

Zoë straightened with a smile. "And as I have always responded," she said, "I do not care. I owe you my life, milady, and I will always choose to show you the respect you deserve."

Artemis shook her head in exasperation but accepted her lieutenant's words. After a thousand years, she knew this was one argument she would never win. "Very well. I take it you have something you wish to discuss with me?"

Zoë nodded. "If there was any doubt that your brother and the demigod were here, I can lay that to rest. In the late morning, not long after you had departed for Olympus, I saw the boy leave the cabin alone. It was definitely the same boy we rescued from Krios. He looked to be carrying hunting supplies. Then around midday, Lord Apollo's chariot parked in front of the cabin and he jumped out in a rush. He was carrying the boy, who was unconscious, in his arms. Neither of them have left the cabin since."

Artemis listened to this new information in contemplative silence. Why was the boy unconscious again? Had Apollo been unable to heal the demigod's wounds? Or had whatever the boy did in the woods – presumably a hunt, if Zoë was correct – caused him to reinjure himself? Most important of all, why was her twin so concerned with this particular half-blood's fate? She sighed. She would just have to add those to the growing list of questions to force her brother to answer.

After a minute, Artemis realized a tad awkwardly that Zoë was still standing patiently in front of her, waiting for a response. So the moon goddess nodded and said, "Thank you, Zoë." Normally, the lieutenant would have taken that as her cue to leave, but she remained where she was, and Artemis sensed she had something more to say. "Is that all you wished to tell me?"

Zoë was hesitant. "No, milady." When she continued, she spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "We still do not know the reason Lord Apollo kept the boy from you. You and I both saw his wounds: the boy was undoubtedly tortured. Even the most strong-willed demigod would have difficulty holding on to their sanity after such an experience, and he is a _male_. Perhaps Apollo fears he may be a threat to you. It would make me feel much better if you would allow me to accompany you, milady."

"I am touched by your concern, Zoë, but it is groundless. What could the boy, sane or otherwise, possibly do to harm me in the presence of two Olympian gods?" The idea amused her slightly, but she was also somewhat miffed that Zoë, like her brother, seemed to think she needed protection. She knew that was unfair to her lieutenant, that she was only concerned for her mistress, but Artemis couldn't help how she felt.

Zoë accepted the goddess' words with a nod, then added, "But at the slightest hint of trouble, know that I will be at your side in an instant."

Artemis' lips quirked upwards in a soft smile. "I would not expect anything less."

With that, Zoë started to bow before remembering her Lady's words from earlier, so instead settled for another deferential nod and backed out of the tent.

When her lieutenant had gone, Artemis decided the time had come. She left her tent and strode quickly through the camp, heading towards the mountain lake. She could spot a stepped path on the far side, leading up the cliffs to where Apollo's cabin stood, so she hiked around the edge of the lake until she came to the base of the escarpment. She reached the steps after a few minutes and began to climb, taking them two at a time.

As she approached the cabin, an uneasy feeling started to worm its way into Artemis' gut. The interior was silent. The windows flickered with a soft orange light, signifying that there was at least a fire burning. The solid gold door offered no resistance when she pushed it open. She cautiously crept inside. The sight that greeted her eyes justified her anxiousness.

Apollo was slumped in a simple wooden chair next to a bed with his eyes closed, unconscious. His body radiated a slight golden glow. Lying prone on the bed, she recognized the black-haired demigod she'd been looking for. Like Apollo, his body appeared covered in a thin golden film, and like Apollo, he was also unconscious.

"Brother?" Artemis whispered. She wasn't exactly sure her brother was in any danger, but she was worried for him. Mental contact would be the best way to determine his condition, she decided. She strode carefully over to him, stepping around the fireplace, and laid a hand on his forehead. She sent a part of her essence to quest into his mind. Instantly, she fainted and fell to the floor as her mind was pulled into the vivid dreamscape of Apollo's memories.

I looked around and tried to get my bearings, disoriented from the abrupt transition into Apollo's mind.

I realized I was surrounded by… nothing. I was floating in an endless gray smoke-scape, encompassed by a disconcerting feeling of weightlessness. I glanced down and yelped.

I looked like a ghost. My skin had become almost translucent. The outline of my body was blurred and trailed wispy vapors into the nothingness. I was about to start panicking when I heard Apollo's voice from somewhere behind me.

"Cool, isn't it?"

I turned. At first glance I almost didn't recognize him. He had changed his form from a thirty-year-old to that of a seventeen-year-old, but his sunny blond hair and sky blue eyes remained constant. Like me, his skin was paler than usual and he didn't look completely solid. I gave him a scowl.

"That depends," I said. "If you can use 'cool' as a synonym for 'disturbing' or 'terrifying' then yes, it's very cool."

"Aw, lighten up, Orion."

I froze. "You know I don't like that name," I said, my tone suddenly icy. "It reminds me of… _him_."

"I know," Apollo sighed. "But it _is_ your name. You should be honored to carry it. I know you feel that Krios tainted it, but I'm sorry, I'm not going to call you by a three-year-old's mispronunciation anymore. Maybe once we're done here, you might find it easier to bear."

I didn't know exactly what that meant, but I supposed I could let it go for now. Maybe letting Apollo call me by my real name was a good first step in moving on from my time with Krios. Mind you, I was going to die in a week… did it really matter?

I tried not to dwell on that thought.  
"Where exactly is 'here'?" I asked Apollo.

"I guess you can think of it as a hub," he said. "A buffer area before we start viewing your father's memories."

 _Like the Grand Central Station of Apollo's mind_ , I mused dryly. Wait, did he just say… "My father?" I said sharply. "I thought we were going through _your_ memories. You know my father?"

He looked at me sadly. "I did, yes. We didn't get along very well, and I believe I am the one to blame for that. But that isn't the point. Before he died – the second time – he shared his memories with me. He made me swear on the River Styx to watch over you, and to show you all of this when you were ready. I agreed, because after what I'd done, I owed it to him."

Apollo's words sent me reeling. My father was dead? The saddest part was, with the way my life has been going lately, I wasn't all that surprised to learn that. It still felt like a sucker punch to my gut, though. "What do you mean, 'Before he died for the second time'? And what did you do that made you feel guilty?"

"All in due time, Orion. Are you ready?"

I wasn't sure I was, but it didn't matter. If my father really was dead, then reliving the memories he wanted to show me was the only chance I would have to see what he was like for myself. I nodded.

"Very well. Before we launch into your birth, however, I believe some backstory is in order. What do you know of the story of Orion… the _original_ Orion?"

No way. This was _not_ going where I thought it was… was it? "Uhh… he was a demigod son of Poseidon, right? He… um… hunted things, didn't he?" I felt like an inadequate student trying to make up the answers to homework I never did.

For some unfathomable reason, Apollo looked unsatisfied with my answer. "Yes," he grumbled. "To put it _very_ bluntly, he hunted things. And he was so adept at hunting things that he caught the attention of your mother. They became close, and she offered him a place in the Hunt: the first male Hunter in history."

I stared at him incredulously. "I thought Artemis hated males."

"She does, for the most part. But this was over two thousand years ago. She wasn't so bad back then. Also…" he trailed off. "This story is part of the reason for her prejudice against males," he finished uncomfortably. "You see, I didn't exactly approve of Orion's, err…. _friendship_ with my sister. I was afraid that he might convince her to break her vow of eternal maidenhood. Or at least, that's what I allowed myself to believe. I think a part of me was jealous of how she treated him."

I watched him closely. He seemed incredibly reluctant to continue, but he did. "I won't go into details, but I…" He swallowed a gulp. "I may have convinced Artemis that Orion had… _had his way_ with one of her Hunters."

My mouth went dry. I stared at the sun god, and I couldn't keep a hint of disgust from entering my expression. I didn't try to, really. All my life, he was the role model I looked up to – the one who had raised me for as far back as I could remember, the one who had taught me how to fight and shoot, the one who had cared for me when I was sick. It always seemed to slip my mind that he was a god, and that gods were fickle at best and vindictive at worst. I averted my eyes.

He had lied to his sister and destroyed one of her closest friendships simply out of some misguided desire to protect her? Or was it simply because he was jealous? How was I supposed to take that? Apollo was the only father figure I'd ever known. Through everything that had happened recently, I had dared to hope that Apollo would be my rock (as dreadfully cliché as that sounds), the one I could always rely on to help me get through whatever I was dealing with as I faced my own mortality. Now even _that_ was ripped away from me.

Apollo tried to break the palpably tense silence. "I've had over two millennia to think about what I did, Orion, and trust me, I've regretted it ever since."

"How can you say that so easily?" My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, and I wouldn't meet his eyes. "'Trust me'… I did, once. Now, though…"

His shoulders sagged. "I know. I don't deserve your trust. But whatever you choose to believe, know that I _do_ care for you. That was never a lie. I only ever lied to you to protect you. Artemis hated me, too, for a long time. She refused to speak to me for eight hundred and fifty seven years, seven months, eighteen days, twelve hours, thirty-four minutes and twelve seconds, and they were the longest eight-and-a-half-odd centuries of my life. Eventually, though, she forgave me. I hope you can find it in yourself to do so also."

I considered his words. A second ago, I'd been prepared to hate him, but I was starting to find that I was having trouble doing so. He'd at least admitted his mistake, and by the sounds of it, he'd tried to atone for it as well. If my mother had forgiven him… maybe he deserved a second chance.

He attempted to compose himself. "Regardless, the story isn't finished, so if you are going to decide to hate me, let me at least fulfill my oath to your father." I nodded distractedly, still trying to decide how I felt about him, and he continued with his narration.

"After… what happened… Orion tried to plead his innocence to Artemis. He claimed he'd been framed. Artemis wouldn't listen. She exiled him from the Hunt and declared that if she or any of her Hunters ever saw him again, they would kill him immediately. Orion grew bitter and angry, feeling like Artemis had betrayed him, and he disappeared."

"I wish I could say my meddling stopped there, but I was driven by an irrational anger. I didn't want him gone, I wanted him dead. I appeared to him in a dream and suggested that he could get revenge on Artemis by proving he was the better hunter. I convinced him to hunt down and kill the monster known as Scorpius. If he could bring its remains to Olympus, the gods would be forced to acknowledge he was superior."

Apollo shared an image of a giant scorpion, its body nearly fifty feet in length, with a pale yellow carapace and a tail the size of a subway train. I blanched. The sun god noticed my reaction. "Yes, quite," he agreed. "It was born of Gaea in the days when the primordial gods ruled, and was far beyond the ability of any mortal hunter to kill, even one as skilled as Orion. But, blinded by his pride and his anger, he believed he could dispatch the monster, so he tracked it down and battled it. For all its size, Scorpius was faster than he anticipated, and the monster impaled him in the chest with his stinger. He managed to escape afterwards and hide in a nearby cave, but it didn't matter. The wound itself wasn't fatal, but Scorpius' poison certainly was."

"When I watched how he suffered as he lay there, dying… I believe I had what you mortals call 'an epiphany.' I realized the grave mistake I'd made, and I tried to correct it before it was too late. I contacted Artemis and told her the truth, as well as the location of the cave where Orion was incapacitated. By the time she got there, he was barely conscious. I think he thought he was hallucinating. He died almost immediately after Artemis arrived, and she gave him the final honor of a resting place in the stars." He paused. "And that's it. That's how Orion died – the first time, at least."

I was about to make a comment when something Apollo had said earlier clicked into place. _Your father… before he died – the second time – he shared his memories with me._ And my name… maybe I'd been a little hasty in telling Apollo that one more earth-shattering revelation wouldn't be too much to handle. "Orion is my father, isn't he?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

Apollo nodded.

"How?"

"I'm getting there. That's where the memories come in. Let me show you."

He extended his hand to me in a silent offer. I sensed that he intended the gesture to be symbolic. The handshake was meant for a double purpose: as much as it was physically necessary so that he could lead me through the memories, it was also a flag of truce. He desperately wanted me to forgive him. I searched his eyes and could see nothing but sincerity and regret buried there. I tried to put myself in his shoes. To what lengths would I have gone to protect my family if I felt they were in danger? I wasn't sure, but I didn't think I would do something as extreme and downright cruel as Apollo did. Nonetheless… as I've so wisely pointed out multiple times to myself lately, in a week from now I'd be dead. What was the point of holding a grudge?

I grasped his proffered hand. Apollo nodded, and I could see the gratitude in his eyes.

When our skin made contact, the blank gray world began to dissolve. The smoke twisted and coalesced, morphing into a terrifyingly familiar backdrop.

Everything became pitch-black. Even in my non-solid form, and despite the fact that this was just a playback of a memory, I could feel the oppressing weight of the darkness around me and the suffocating aura of a cold and ancient alien presence. It was the entrance to the pit of Tartarus, the prison of Kronos and the other Titans.

"This is the entrance to the pit of Tartarus, the prison of Kronos and the other Titans," Apollo said unhelpfully from beside me. He was still grasping my hand, and I have to admit, the gesture imparted a modicum of comfort. "It –"

"I know," I interrupted. "I, uh… I had a dream about this place once."

Apollo gazed at me with an unreadable expression, and I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He seemed to be considering what to say, but then he raised his eyes and focused on something in the darkness. "It's starting," he said, and pointed.

A shape had materialized in the shadows, not far from where ghost-Apollo and I floated. It was the figure of a man. In the inky darkness, it was hard to make out any details, but I could tell he was tall. We floated closer. The man was dazed; his head turned wildly in every direction, trying to figure out where he was. For a moment, he turned and stared right through us, and I nearly choked.

It was like looking in a mirror. The man had my short, neatly-trimmed black hair and average nose. His solid jawline and slightly angled cheekbones matched mine perfectly. The only difference was the eyes; while mine were silver – which I now knew came from my mother – his were a mix of green and blue, like the sea.

There was no doubt in my mind. This man was my father.

 _Welcome, Orion_. The voice of Kronos reverberated around us.

I jumped, and for a horrible moment, I thought the Lord of Time was talking to me. Then I realized that, as usual, I was being stupid, and that Kronos was addressing the man who was suspended a few feet in front of me; the man I now know was my father, and my namesake.

"Who are you?" Orion demanded. "Why have you brought me here?" I was impressed that he managed to sound so calm, so unafraid. Though I suppose when you're dead, you don't really have much to be afraid of.

Suddenly Apollo frowned, and the memory froze. I glanced sideways at him, inquiring with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head. "For a second there, I thought I felt… nevermind. It's nothing." We turned back to the scene of the memory, and it resumed playing.

Kronos chuckled, and the sound was like shards of glass scraping across metal. _You are a fool if you have not guessed my identity. I am Kronos, the Titan Lord of Time. As for why you are… I have temporarily restored your spirit to a mortal form. I have a proposition to offer._

Orion hesitated. "Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

 _I can feel the anger and bitterness burning in your heart. You were abandoned by the one you professed to love. She rejected you. She allowed you to die. You desire revenge, do you not? I can give you that._

I could tell the idea held some appeal to Orion, but he still seemed uncertain. "Why would you help me?"

 _The gods have also wronged me. I understand what it is like to be betrayed and shunned by those whom you trusted. My own wife helped my children destroyed me. Your vengeance against the twins shall cause strife among the Olympians, which serves my purposes as well. You need only listen to my advice._

Even in the memory, I could feel the power of the Titan's words washing over me, filling me with hopelessness, whispering to obey him. I shuddered. If just the echo of Kronos' magic was this strong, I couldn't begin to imagine what my namesake was experiencing.

I saw a tremor pass through Orion Senior, and his fists were pressed against his temples. He succumbed to the Titan's words and lowered his hands. This time, his fists were clenched at his sides in anger. "Yes," he snarled. "Artemis betrayed me. Her brother tricked me to kill me. They must pay. What is your plan, my lord?"

I felt a small measure of revulsion at the sudden change in his attitude. This was my _father_ I was watching, and he had just decided to listen to the advice of the king of the Titans, agreeing to participate in a plot to make my mother and uncle suffer.

When Kronos next spoke, I could hear the satisfaction of his triumph laced into his tone. _There is a reason it was_ your _life force I desired, Orion. Do you remember the pain of the poison you suffered when Scorpius killed you? I can see you do. The potency of his venom is unrivaled. It corrodes the soul as much as the body, and it is still present in your essence, even in this reincarnated form._

"You said my form was temporary… is that what you meant?"

 _Yes. When you were immortalized in the stars, a piece of your essence was preserved. It carried with it a remnant of the poison that burned within you. When I called that same fragment of your spirit down from the stars and brought you here, the poison still remains. Even now, it begins to burn away what is left of your soul. Soon, very soon, there will be nothing left, and you will fade. But the poison is vital; it will be the weapon with which we will strike back at my twin grandchildren._

Orion digested Kronos' words and asked, "How?"

 _You will combine your essence with that of the goddess Artemis and use it to create a demigod child. I will show you how. By doing so, the imperfection in your life force will be passed to him, and he will be destined to live a shortened life. You will deliver him to Artemis. When the world learns of a half-blood child of the maiden goddess of the moon, and a male child no less, she will be humiliated. Her brother will shun her. She may even kill the child out of shame herself. But if she does not, he will suffer the same fate as you; his soul will be slowly corrupted by Scorpius' poison until it dissolves completely. When he dies, Artemis will know the same pain she caused you, and you will have your revenge._

"But, the child, my lord…" Orion spoke uneasily, reluctantly. "Is he not innocent? Why should he be made to suffer for the crimes of his mother?"

 _The child is nothing,_ Kronos roared. _A means to end. Do you wish to take your revenge or not?_

Slowly, Orion nodded.

 _Then begone. I will summon you here when it is time for you to act._

Kronos' words echoed in my head, bouncing back and forth. _The child is nothing… A means to end_. _A means to an end…_ Was that all my father saw me as? A tool, created specifically for the solitary purpose of causing someone pain?

I rubbed my temple, trying to abate my headache. Part of me was starting to regret agreeing to this, now that I finally knew why I had been created. The thought of my father creating me without my mother's knowledge, fully aware that I would die young… it was difficult to accept.

Apollo seemed to sense my growing despair. He laid a comforting hand on my shoulder and leaned to whisper in my ear, "The story doesn't end here. You may yet be surprised." I nodded and signaled for him to go on. Apollo snapped his fingers, and the scene shifted.

Our ghost-like forms now hovered a few inches above the ground in a dark forest. Normally, I would be thrilled to be back in my natural element, but these woods reminded me uncomfortably of the night I'd escaped from Krios, and _those_ wounds – mental and physical – were still a little too fresh.

Orion was crouched in front of us. A black robe covered him, making it nearly impossible to make out anything of his features, but I knew it had to be him. He was observing something from his knees. I noticed something I'd missed earlier: the telltale flickering light of a campfire glowing in the woods several hundred feet away. As I watched, the fire was extinguished and the trees plunged even farther into night.

Quietly, Orion crept forward. He stayed crouched low as he silently shuffled closer to where the fire had been. Apollo and I followed behind.

Soon, we emerged from the woods into a small clearing. In the dim light of the waning crescent moon, I could vaguely make out the shapes of a myriad of silver camping tents. "Where are we?" I asked Apollo. I didn't bother to lower my voice – no one could hear us. To all intents and purposes, we were just watching a movie. A 4-D, _very_ lifelike movie, that happened to be a recollection of actual historical events.

"To be honest, I don't know," Apollo replied. I raised an eyebrow. He shrugged. "I know that this is a campsite set up by the Hunters, but as for where the camp actually is… haven't the foggiest."

Ah, the Hunters of Artemis. That would explain the silver tents.

"Why are we here?"

Apollo gave me a look, like, _Maybe you should watch instead of asking stupid questions._ I shut up.

Orion was among the tents now, carefully sneaking his way through to one that looked bigger than the others. I assumed it was probably Artemis' tent. I was about to ask Apollo if gods slept, and if not, then why did she have a tent, but I assumed that would count as a stupid question.

Cautiously, Orion crept around to the side of the tent and pulled out a small hunting knife. He set to work meticulously slicing into the tent fabric, carving himself a neat little doggie door big enough for him to crawl through. He slid into the tent like a ghost, not making a sound.

The interior of the tent was sparse. In a depression in the ground in the center, the remnants of a fire had burned to embers. Deer pelts hung on the walls, and a large silver chair (which looked suspiciously like a throne) adorned one corner. A simple bed filled another. And on the bed…

I felt something stir in my chest as I beheld my mother for the first time. If I had had any doubts that what Apollo had claimed about my parentage was false, they vanished. I felt drawn to the familiarity of her essence. Even in the memory, I could feel the call of the Hunt stronger than ever before. It wasn't just in her; it _was_ her.

She was in the form of a twelve-year-old (something I found a little disconcerting) with auburn hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Despite her size, her petite, athletic frame belied a hidden strength, and I knew that she was not someone you wanted to pick a fight with. Her eyes were closed as she rested – apparently gods _can_ sleep – but I knew what I would see if they were open: bright silver discs, like the moon.

Orion gazed down at her prone form with something akin to longing. But as I watched, steel entered his eyes and his fist clenched. His right hand began to shimmer and distort, becoming insubstantial. Then, he drew fist back and pushed it slowly into Artemis' chest.

I didn't know what I was expecting, but I was _not_ expecting his hand to sink straight through into her body.

A soft silver glow, tinged with black, began to emanate from the point where Orion was doing… whatever it was he was doing. He held his indistinct fist inside her sternum for a minute longer. Artemis didn't stir. When Orion removed his hand, a swirling globe of silver energy the size of a softball was clutched in his palm.

Apollo waved his hand, and the scene dissolved once more.

The memories reformed to show us a small cave about half the size of Apollo's cabin. It appeared to be situated at the base of a large mountain that rose above a vast desert. It was still nighttime, but out the front of the cave, I could see the sand stretching away to the horizon. The crescent moon shone down on us; I wondered idly if it was the same night as the scene we had just viewed.

The cave itself was rather cozy, with a fur pelt as a bed and a small bowl carved into the stone to house a fire. Orion was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cave in front of the fire, his back hunched over something, facing away from the entrance. He was wearing the same black robe I'd seen earlier, which seemed to confirm that this was indeed the same night that he'd visited the Hunters' camp.

This time, I had an inkling of where we were. I turned to ask my question to Apollo, but before I could, he nodded and said, "Yes. This is the cave where Orion hid from Scorpius… the cave where he died the first time and was immortalized in the stars. Now, no more questions until this is over."

I agreed, burying my displeasure at him reading my mind with the satisfaction that I had been correct in my assumption of our location.

Suddenly, a flash of light and a burst of heat lit up the opening of the cave. It was so bright, I got the feeling that if I'd been facing it when it happened, I would've been blinded. Orion didn't look up. When the light faded, a figure stepped into view.

The memory version of Apollo's seventeen-year-old form looked exactly like the real one standing next to me, except his skin was its normal tanned color and his body, covered in his typical red tracksuit, was solid. His face was carefully blank, as if he wasn't sure exactly how he should be feeling. He took a few cautious steps towards the hunched figure of Orion at the edge of the fire pit. Still, Orion did not acknowledge his presence.

"Orion," memory-Apollo said, his tone neutral, betraying nothing. "I do not know how your spirit has returned to this form, but I have answered you because I owe you a debt. Why have you called me here?"

Finally, Orion stirred. His back straightened, but he stared at the wall in front of him, not turning to face his godly visitor. "I have made a terrible mistake," he whispered, and I could barely recognize his voice. It sounded hollow, broken.

Apollo seemed to notice this, too. His expression softened slightly.

"I believe you, of all people, can understand my position," Orion continued. He still refused to look at Apollo, but he explained in detail everything that real-Apollo and I had just witnessed in his memories; his resurrection by Kronos, his desire for revenge, the steps of the plan Kronos had developed for him to get it. Memory-Apollo's expression tightened more and more as he went on. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to scream at Orion and blast him to smithereens, but he also seemed to recognize that after what he'd done to Orion in the first place, he would have been a hypocrite to do so.

Orion, oblivious to the god's reaction, finally reached the end of his tale and fell silent. Apollo controlled himself enough to ask, "And the child? Where is he?"

At last, Orion stood and turned. Despite my confused feelings towards him, I felt my gut wrench as I took in my father's appearance. His sea-green eyes were sunken, their look vacant, and his shiny black hair had lost its luster. His formerly chiseled jaw looked like it had been dulled with a piece of sandpaper. His posture was slumped. In his arms, he carried a small bundle of cloth, roughly the size of a human baby.

Memory-Apollo was just as disturbed by his appearance I was. The majority of his anger seemed to vanish. "I will not follow through with Kronos' plan," Orion declared. Though he now faced Apollo, he stared at the floor. "I cannot. I have already doomed this child to a shortened life and a painful death. I will not cause any more needless agony. I know I do not deserve your help, but I do not have long left before the poison destroys me. You said you owe me a debt; then make me an oath."

Apollo nodded solemnly.

"Swear on the River Styx that you will not reveal the existence of this child to your sister, the goddess Artemis." He faltered a bit as he spoke her name. "Swear that you will care for the child yourself, and do as much to ease his pain as you can. And… swear that when the time comes, and the boy learns of his fate, you will share with him everything I have told you tonight. To make it simpler, I will impart my memories to you. But you must swear to my terms." He finally raised his head and met Apollo's eyes with a pleading look, and I could see the anguish in the dull sea-green orbs.

Apparently, Apollo could, too. "I so swear," he said. Thunder rumbled overhead.

Orion sagged, relieved. He slowly walked toward Apollo and handed the bundle of cloth – which was clearly baby me – to the sun god. He placed his hand on the god's forehead and closed his eyes. When he opened them again and stepped back, he seemed to be even more drained than he had looked earlier, which was saying something.

Then he flinched, and a spasm passed through his body. He staggered to one side of the wall and collapsed down onto the fur pelt. Orion gritted his teeth. "It has begun," he gasped. "In creating the child and sharing my memories, I have used too much of my energy; it has hastened the poison's progress. I fear I have minutes left." A sheen of sweat was beginning to appear on his brow. If what he was feeling now compared even remotely to the agony I felt the day I collapsed in the forest, I marveled that he was still conscious.

The memory of Apollo looked torn, as if part of him wanted to stand by and watch Orion die, while part of him wanted to be at his side and comfort him. Eventually, he seemed to come to a realization, and the latter won out. Still cradling baby me, he strode over to the fur pelt and knelt at Orion's side. Apollo sighed. "Orion…" he began. "I cannot apologize enough for what I did to you and my sister. Raising and protecting this child will not even begin to make up for my mistakes, but if it will help at all, I will gladly do it. But… what is the child's name?"

In a haze of pain, Orion still managed to comprehend the sun god's query. "I always… a-always intended for the child's n-n-name to be… O-Orion," he stuttered, struggling for breath. "Originally, i-it was meant to b-be an insult to A-A-Artemis; a r-reminder of her greatest… g-greatest failure. But now… the b-boy will be my second chance. I-Instead of causing strife, h-he will redeem my n-name. He will be s-s-stronger and w-wiser than I ever could."

Apollo nodded. "Very well. As you wish, his name will be Orion."

"There is one… one m-more thing. In this cave, I have h-hidden something; a g-gift… a gift for my son. He must j-journey here when he is o-old enough. I cannot t-tell you any m-m-more." Orion Senior took in another rattling breath. His eyelids fluttered; he was barely holding on. "Apollo, t-tell Artemis… tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I… I l-loved her." The last three words came out in a pained whisper, barely audible. Apollo nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

As I watched, Orion's form blurred. He gave one last shuddering sigh, and the last of his life force succumbed to Scorpius' poison. I could see the fur pelt he was lying on through his chest: his body had become transparent. Soon, it faded completely, until the only thing left that remained of my father was a smoky gray wisp that dispersed into the night sky.

Memory-Apollo watched it disappear with regret on his face, and heaved a sigh. He looked like the weight of the world had just been placed on his shoulders. He lowered his gaze down to the baby wrapped in cloth and slowly stroked his forehead. The baby cooed and grabbed for Apollo's finger. The last sight of the memory I had before it dissolved was of a sad smile making its way onto the god's face.

After a minute, we were back in the floating gray smoke-scape that Apollo had called the "hub." The sun god's solemn face searched my expression; I was stoic. I thought about what Apollo had said about my name – how I should be honored to carry it, and how he hoped that after viewing his memories I would be able to accept that. I considered what my father had wanted for me: to redeem him, and to be greater than his legacy ever was. I realized that maybe, just maybe, Orion wasn't such a bad name after all.

Suddenly, I became aware of a third presence among us. Apollo's face became panicked. He spun around wildly, scanning the gray nothingness. "No!" he shouted. "I thought I was being paranoid when I sensed you earlier… how are you here?!"

 _THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE HIDDEN FROM ME?_ a female voice, cold and furious, roared. I felt an unpleasant tugging sensation, and I was ripped from Apollo's mind and flung unceremoniously back into my own body.


	4. Chapter 4: Reconciliation & Preparation

**This chapter was the hardest one to write yet, which is also probably part of why it ended up being the shortest one so far. I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it's as good as it's going to get. After this chapter, there probably won't be any more sections from Artemis' POV (except maybe one). Instead, I'll be incorporating some sections with Zo** **ë's POV in the next chapter and other future chapters. There may also be some chapters with sections in Percy's POV in the future, but I haven't fully decided on that yet.**

 **My current idea for this story is to separate it into two parts. As it stands, we're a little more than halfway through part 1. The next couple of chapters will focus on the journey to the cave and begin to set the stage for the second part of this story. I think the first chapter of part 2 will be chapter 8, but that could change.**

 **Anyways, as always, leave a review and let me know what you think. I appreciate suggestions and constructive criticism.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Reconciliation and Preparation

I have to say, it wasn't the ideal way I'd imagined meeting my mother for the first time.

I regained consciousness groggily, disoriented once again from the abrupt transition from Apollo's mind back into my own. I opened my eyes, squinting blearily.

And promptly fell off my bed, which did not feel very good on my poison-infected, stiff, sore limbs.

Apollo had been yanked from his chair and was currently pinned up against the wall next to the window by a twelve-year-old with her auburn-colored hair drawn up in a ponytail. It would have looked almost comical, had the twelve-year-old not had a silver hunting knife pressed to the sun god's throat and the collar of his flame-red tracksuit gripped tightly in her free left hand.

From my new vantage point on the floor and with a slight shock, I recognized that this was the same girl I had seen in the memory of Orion sneaking into the camp of the Hunters – this was the goddess Artemis. Under normal circumstances, I would have been thrilled to have the chance to meet my mother, but the look on her face was… frightening, to say the least.

Artemis' cheeks were flushed with rage, her silver eyes murderous. Her small frame shook with barely suppressed anger, like she was holding herself back from ripping Apollo apart with her bare hands.

By contrast, her brother was as contrite as I'd ever seen him. He hung limply in his twin's grasp, not wasting any energy resisting. I imagined that after a few millennia dealing with her, he probably knew that when she was this angry, there was no point in struggling.

Apollo attempted to sigh, but the position he was in and the knife at his windpipe made it rather difficult. "How much did you see?" he inquired, his tone resigned.

Artemis' eyes narrowed dangerously. "All of it," she growled in a low whisper. The knife blade twitched against Apollo's Adam's apple.

I thought my uncle might have lost his marbles, because he didn't appear at all worried. In fact, he seemed unnaturally calm and partially relieved, as if he knew this day would eventually come and was glad that he was finally getting it off his shoulders. "Then you are aware of the oath I swore," Apollo said evenly. "And you know that I couldn't have told you about him even if I wanted to."

"He is _my son_ ," she snarled. "I deserved to know!"

"You saw the memories!" Apollo exclaimed. "If I had told you about him, it would have been exactly what Kronos wanted!"

That finally seemed to get through to Artemis. Her eyes widened a tad, and she made a visible effort to control her anger. She slowly removed her hunting knife from her brother's jugular and released the scruff of his tracksuit.

Apollo took in a deep breath and rubbed his throat, slumping back down into his chair. Artemis shot him a slightly apologetic glance, but her anger didn't seem entirely abated.

I had made my way back up onto my bed by this point, and was watching their interaction while trying to make myself as small as possible. I had no intention of getting caught in the middle of a godly sibling fight.

But it didn't take long for Apollo to remember I was there. After all, I was the source of their argument. Indirectly, of course, but still… that didn't make me feel much better. At the moment, I was doing exactly what Kronos had hoped for – causing strife between the twins.

Apollo looked over at me from his chair, and I think he picked up on that thought. I glowered at him, something that was steadily becoming a bit of a habit. "Are you ever going to listen to me when I ask you not to do that?" I said.

"It depends," he answered, looking thoughtful. "Are you going to keep blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault?"

Oh.

The sound of our voices drew Artemis' attention. She slowly turned her head, and for the first time in my life, I looked into my mother's eyes.

It was slightly surreal. A multitude of emotions flooded through me: regret, wariness (of her current mood), but above all, comfort. As I looked into the bright silver orbs that perfectly mirrored mine, I felt safe… at peace.

Similar sentiments were reflected in Artemis' own eyes. I could see her hesitance, as well as the remnants of her anger. As she studied me, though, her gaze softened a bit, and I thought I detected a hint of affection buried there. It seemed like she didn't exactly know what to do with it; like she felt as if she wanted to try to care for me, but a few thousand years of man-hating habits was holding her back. Not to mention the fact that, as a goddess sworn to be an eternal maiden, I imagine finding out she had an immaculately conceived child was quite the shock.

I decided to make it easy for her. I was about to tell her that I understood her position and that she didn't need to feel obligated to like me, but I had only got as far as "Mother, I –" when she started to take a few tentative steps toward me. I faltered and broke off.

Apollo watched her like a hawk as she approached me. I found his concern for me somewhat touching but I didn't appreciate his lack of trust in his sister. I figured he was thinking back to Kronos' comment that she might "kill the child out of shame herself." I remembered the warmth I'd seen in Artemis' eyes when she looked at me. It was shrouded in uncertainty and hesitance borne out of inexperience, but it was certainly there. I wasn't unduly worried.

She finally stopped a foot in front of me. Her silver eyes had never left mine the whole time as she walked closer, and I found myself drawn into their depths. She reached out with her right hand and cupped my cheek with her palm. I closed my eyes and relaxed into her touch, raising my arm and covering her hand with my left. I let out a contented sigh.

"My son," Artemis whispered.

The comforting touch of my mother: this was what I had missed out on my whole fifteen years of life. Right then, I wanted nothing more than to spend my last week alive with Artemis, learning about her, getting to know her. Would that be too much to ask of a goddess?

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see my mother's glistening. I had just opened my mouth to voice my selfish suggestion when she wiped her eyes angrily and turned back to Apollo.

"He is dying," she said. It wasn't a question. Apollo nodded anyway. "Fifteen years after the fact, I discover that I have a son that you have hidden from me. And now that I have found him, I learn that his life is now measured in days. How can I possibly…" She couldn't continue.

Even though I had known her for all of five minutes, I hated to see my mother distraught. The image in front of me conflicted starkly with the mental picture I'd constructed of her as a cool, composed, relentless Hunter, the goddess of the moon. I couldn't stand seeing her so upset over me; I wasn't worth it.

Artemis' head turned to me sharply, and I knew with infuriating certainty that the mind-reading tendencies of her brother apparently ran in the family. She looked me dead in the eye and shook her head. "That is not true, Orion," she said firmly. "You are my son. That will always be enough for me."

I finally found my voice. "I'm… not whole," I said sadly. "Kronos saw to that when I was created, and Krios reinforced it. Why would you want to burden yourself with caring for me? My scars will never fade."

Artemis tilted her head. "Perhaps. But scars are just physical reminders of the challenges we have overcome… and that is nothing to be ashamed of. We all have our own shares of scars, even the moon. What do you think craters are? It doesn't make you any less human." She grasped my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You are strong, Orion. Stronger than you know. Not many could have survived what you have."

Her words made me feel a bit better, but she hadn't experienced what I'd been through – and what I was facing. If she knew the truth about how I felt, she wouldn't think I was so strong. I intended to keep it that way, so I returned to my usual carefree, sarcastic self.

"Maybe," I said. "But that won't matter in a week."

She must have picked up on my nonchalant tone. "Do you _want_ to die?" Artemis asked with genuine curiosity.

I pondered the question seriously for a moment. I thought back to my time with Krios, and all the days I wished he would've just finished the job instead of healing me each night. "Not particularly. But I haven't been especially fond of living lately either. It wouldn't make a difference whether I wanted to or not; it's going to happen either way. I've decided to just accept that and try to be as upbeat as possible instead of fighting the inevitable."

My words appeared to bother Artemis. She shifted uneasily. I decided to come up with something else before I incidentally made her feel worse.

"Besides, I don't exactly have time to mope around feeling sorry for myself," I pointed out. "If you saw my father's memories, mother, then you know that he gave me a task."

"The gift in the cave," she recalled.

I nodded. "He wanted me to journey there to find whatever it was he left for me. Seeing as I have no idea where the cave is – other than the fact that it's at the edge of a desert – I should probably leave soon, because it could take me the whole last week of my life to find it."

"I can help you there." Apollo had been silently watching my interaction with my mother with a depressed look in his eyes, but now he entered the conversation, relieved that he could finally do something to help. "The cave has moved with the gods and is now here, in America. Can you think of any notable deserts in America?"

I could think of only _one_ desert in America, notable or otherwise. "The southwest."

The sun god nodded. "The cave is in southern California. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to tell you any more than that. Quests like these… Zeus doesn't appreciate us interfering too much. Demigods have to find their own way. But I think you'll appreciate the irony of its location when you learn it."

I groaned. "Of course, it would be all the way on the other side of the country." That wasn't even to mention the fact that I _really_ didn't fancy a journey to the desert southwest in the middle of November. Most people don't realize that at night, the temperature in deserts can reach as far _down_ as it can up.

"You do have one advantage, Orion," Artemis said. "The Hunters and I traveled on foot from Colorado to here in three days. We can bend distance as we travel through woodland. You are my son; the wild is as much in _your_ blood as it is ours. Do you understand?"

Was she suggesting what I thought she was? I nodded slowly. "I think so. But –"

Just then, the golden door of Apollo's cabin burst open. A tall figure stepped through, an arrow nocked to her ready-held silver bow. The figure moved forward into the firelight, and I was able to make out the details of their appearance.

It was a girl, about sixteen or seventeen years old. She wore a plain silver jacket, silver leggings, and black military-style combat boots. Her dark-brown hair, tied in a ponytail like Artemis, was draped over her left shoulder, and I noticed a small silver circlet braided into it near her forehead. A hunting knife was sheathed at each hip. Her lithe form reminded me of a tiger: graceful, athletic, and dangerous. Her skin was an attractive coppery color, and I thought she was admittedly beautiful – in a natural, outdoorsy sort of way. But as I examined her countenance closer, the positive qualities ended there. Her nose was slightly upturned, as if she were in a perpetual state of disdain for everything around her. Her eyes were like obsidian – black and hard. Between her elegant features, the silver circlet in her hair, and the cold, proud look in her eyes, she could've passed for a Persian princess. When she noticed me, I thought I saw her expression soften slightly, a hint of pity entering her gaze, and I chafed.

I disliked her instantly. I didn't want anyone's pity, and I _certainly_ didn't need it.

The girl, whom I assumed from her outfit and weaponry was one of my mother's Hunters, flicked her head back and forth between myself, Artemis, and Apollo. She seemed to be trying to gauge whether or not Artemis was in danger, and I nearly laughed out loud.

My mother sighed when she caught sight of the girl. "Zoë, I told you I would call for you if I needed you."

The girl, apparently named Zoë, hesitated. "I'm sorry, milady. I saw flashes of light and heard you shouting, and I assumed the worst."

Artemis gazed at her amusedly, but didn't reply.

I cleared my throat. "Can we get back to the topic at hand here?"

Zoë turned to look at me, and again I noticed the strange sympathy in her eyes. I had to make a conscious effort not to scowl. I settled for a moderately sour look instead.

"Speaking of that," Artemis mused, "Since you have come, perhaps you could be of assistance after all, my lieutenant." She was staring thoughtfully between Zoë and I, and it was making me nervous.

All of a sudden, I caught on to her idea. I shook my head vehemently. "No," I said. "Absolutely not. No way. This journey is for me and me alone."

"You cannot presume to cross the country on your own," Artemis argued. "Zoë is my most skilled and experienced Hunter. She can help you."

"Did you consider the fact that I might not _want_ her help?" I exploded.

Zoë's obsidian eyes hardened. "Do not speak to Lady Artemis that way," she hissed, and stepped forward with her arm raised as if to strike me. I stood my ground and glared at her. _Go on, do it_ , my stance said.

And she probably would have, had Artemis not placed her arm across her path, blocking her way. Zoë seemed shocked that her mistress would restrain her from "disciplining" someone for speaking disrespectfully to the goddess, especially when that someone was a male. Artemis fixed her with a stern look, and Zoë took a breath and backed away, settling for matching my glare. I smirked back at her. I wasn't usually this abrasive, but something about this girl just rubbed me the wrong way.

Artemis turned her disapproving frown onto me. "What?" I demanded. Artemis quirked an eyebrow and said nothing. I sheepishly scratched the back of my neck. "She started it," I muttered resentfully, aware of how petulant I sounded.

"And I'm finishing it," Artemis said sharply. In that moment, I thought she definitely looked the part of a mother scolding her child. "Perhaps you two might get along better if you were properly introduced." She gestured to Zoë. "This is Zoë Nightshade, lieutenant of my Hunt. Zoë, this…" She paused, and glanced to Apollo and then myself, as if asking if it was okay to proceed.

I shrugged. "It's as much your secret to tell as it is mine."

Artemis accepted my answer as permission to continue, which was how I intended it. She took a deep breath. "As I was saying, Zoë, this is Orion… my son."

The Hunter's head snapped around to stare incredulously at her mistress. Artemis held up her hands in a placating gesture. "It is not as you think," she said. "He is a demigod, and my son, but he… he was not conceived in a typical fashion. He was formed immaculately by the combination of my essence with that of a mortal."

Now Zoë just looked confused. "But, when we rescued him in the forest… you said you did not know who he was."

Artemis inclined her head. "At the time, I did not," she affirmed. "But due to… ah, extenuating circumstances" – here she glanced at Apollo, who flushed – "I have learned his identity. We were just discussing –"

This time I cut her off. "She doesn't need to know," I said. "She isn't coming." I glared pointedly at my mother.

"Orion, I know you feel you can be reckless because of your… condition… but I have not given up hope that there is some way to help you. I will not have you needlessly risk your life by traveling across the country alone!"

A lump formed in my throat. She hadn't given up on me? Even after everything, she still believed that she could find a way to save me. I didn't think much of the possibility, but I was touched that she cared so much – that _someone_ cared. It started to dawn on me that maybe I was being selfish. She just wanted me to be safe. Would that be worth putting up with the prideful and aloof lieutenant of the Hunt for the last week of my life? I sighed inwardly. Probably not, but the least I could do was honor my mother's request. After all the trouble I had inadvertently caused – and was going to cause when I inevitably passed on from this world – I owed it to her.

Zoë was glancing between us in confusion. "His 'condition'?" she asked, frowning. "What do you mean?"

I was about to dismiss her with a curt, "Don't worry about it," but I caught Artemis' look. It very clearly said, _If you stopped being so rude and gave her a chance, you might be surprised_. So instead, I swallowed my words and ignored Zoë entirely, not trusting myself not to say anything offensive.

"She travels with me on one condition," I said, still looking at Artemis. "This is my quest, from _my_ father, so _I'm_ in charge. If Miss I-hate-males over here can't unbend her pride enough to let one lead her, she's not coming."

My mother looked at her lieutenant in a silent question.

Once more, Zoë regarded us balefully. Finally, she crossed her arms and sighed. "Fine," she said, gritting her teeth. Artemis nodded, satisfied.

"There you go," the goddess said. "Does that satisfy you?"

I had to bite back another retort that I could only be less satisfied if Hades himself had been the one to accompany me on the quest. I nodded grudgingly. "It'll do, Donkey, it'll do," I said, chuckling to myself.

Apollo gave me an approving nod while Artemis and Zoë frowned confusedly. I waved them off. "Don't worry about it. Apollo gets it." _Which should be a red flag as far as pop culture references go_ , I thought dryly. "Anyways…" I strode over to where my hunting pack sat on the floor. I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder. When I looked back at the godly twins and the Hunter, Artemis and Zoë were still frowning at me, only now Apollo had joined them.

"What are you doing?" Apollo asked.

"I'm leaving," I said, like it should be obvious. Let's be honest – it should have been.

If possible, his frown deepened. "You can't leave now. It's nearly midnight."

I raised an eyebrow. "And your point is, uncle….? The night is my territory. You know… son of the moon goddess and all that?"

"My brother is right," Artemis interjected. "…thought you will likely never hear me say that again. I know you've had a rough past few days, Orion; you need a solid night of rest before you go. You'll need your energy for the trip."

I looked between them for a minute, hoping one of them would give ground. They didn't. I huffed and set my pack back down on the floor next to my bed. "Fine," I said. "Then if you don't mind…" I made a motion with my hands, like, _Shoo so I can sleep._

The twins nodded and prepared to flash out, until Artemis seemed to remember that I was going to be leaving on a journey that would likely kill me. She froze, and before she could lose her nerve, she walked over and embraced me in an awkward hug.

Zoë watched wide-eyed. I doubted she had ever seen her mistress hug a male. I tentatively wrapped my arms around my mother's small frame and hugged her back. She leaned up to whisper in my ear, "I regret that I have not been able to spend time with you, my son. But I promise, if there is a way to fix this, I will find it."

I gave her a small, sad smile. "I don't doubt you will," I said. "And when you do, you know just where to find me."

She nodded and stepped away. "We will come to see you off tomorrow." She returned my smile, and then she and her brother began to glow. Zoë and I averted our eyes as the gods revealed their immortal forms and vanished in a flash of light.

When they were gone, Zoë turned to me with an unreadable expression. She looked around the one-room cabin, noticing the absence of any other beds. "I will sleep outside, in my tent," she decided. "I prefer sleeping under the stars anyway."

I accepted her words with a curt nod, and she walked to the door. As she opened it to walk out, I said, "I'll wake you at first light." She nodded once as well, then the door shut and I lost sight of her.

I sighed to myself. If I was going to have to deal with her for almost every waking hour for basically the rest of my life, I figured I might as well try to enjoy it. I resolved to pour on the sarcasm extra-hard tomorrow, and climbed into my bed. I laid my head down on the pillow and pulled the comforter up over my shoulders.

Soon, I drifted off to sleep. Naturally, I dreamed.

I found myself in an enormous hall the size of a baseball stadium. High above, the dark-blue ceiling glittered with constellations. In the center of the room, a hearth burned with a steady, comforting fire. Twelve thrones formed an inverted-U shape around the hearth. I gaped as I realized what I was seeing.

It was the Hall of the Gods: the throne room of Olympus.

Right now, only two of the thrones were occupied. At the vertex of the U, a man in a gray pinstripe suit sat atop a white marble throne. His face was stern, his eyes stormy grey. He had a grey-black beard that sparked with little lightning bolts.

Immediately to his left was a throne that looked like a deep-sea fishing chair. It was made of grey/green-streaked white marble, with a holster for a fishing pole built into the side that carried a green trident. On it sat a man in a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts. He had black hair and sea-green eyes.

Zeus and Poseidon, undoubtedly. I shivered. Even in a dream, I could feel the power radiating off the two gods in waves. Apollo always appeared and acted so normal, I often forgot he was a god (though don't let him know I said that). These were two of the Big Three, though, and I knew that I could never doubt their power.

Before Poseidon's throne knelt the same black-haired demigod I'd seen in my previous dream. Between the trident that had hovered over his head in the creek as the water healed his wounds and his current location in front of the sea god's throne, rather than Zeus', I figured Poseidon was the boy's father.

The boy looked decidedly worse for wear. His clothes were singed and riddled with holes. He looked like he'd been through a warzone, honestly. He carried a neon-yellow nylon backpack, and as I watched, he reached into the pack and pulled out a celestial bronze cylinder, about three feet long, capped on both ends. He laid it at Zeus' feet, and I watched as the sky god held out his hand and the cylinder flew into it. My dream-perspective was too far away to hear what was being said, so I directed myself in closer.

I listened as the boy wove an incredible tale, filled with fantastical claims that included fighting Medusa, falling out of the St. Louis Arch, and fighting Ares in single combat (this scrawny little twelve-year-old fought _Ares_? He was talking about the same war god, right?). Zeus and Poseidon paid close attention, and I was mildly surprised neither of them had blasted the boy to next week yet.

By the time the boy finished, the two gods looked thoughtful. The boy's voice became muddled for a moment, but I caught one word I never wanted to hear again: "Kronos." I sensed they were about to talk about something important, but my dream began to fade. For the first time, I actually wanted a dream to continue. I felt like I _needed_ to hear whatever it was the boy had been about to say.

But then he abruptly turned around and opened his mouth, and when he spoke, Zoë Nightshade's voice came out: "Wake up!"

My vision was filled by something large and round, the color of copper, with two black dots halfway up. I blinked and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

Zoë's face swam into focus, hovering less than a foot from my own. "Holy Hades!" I jumped in shock.

Which, of course, due to our close proximity, resulted in our foreheads painfully bashing together with a resounding _thump_.

I fell back onto my pillow, clutching my temple. Zoë staggered backwards but, to her credit, remained upright.

I groaned. "Do you mind? I told you I would wake you at sunrise for us to leave."

"You did," she agreed, scowling at me and rubbing her now slightly red forehead. "And that was over an hour ago." I peered out the window. Sure enough, I was dismayed to see that the sun had indeed already made its way over the horizon.

I shifted and scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. "Um… sorry," I said. "I must have overslept." I didn't sound very sorry.

Zoë must have realized this fact. Her scowl deepened and she sniffed disdainfully before turning away. "The twins are waiting, and we need to leave… you have ten minutes." She tossed the words back over her shoulder as she walked to the door and went back outside to her tent.

I made a face at her retreating back – just another example of my world-class maturity – and tried to finish waking myself up. It took a few minutes: my brain was a bit discombobulated, though I suspected that had less to do with my dream and subsequent abrupt wake-up call and more to do with my unfortunate collision with a certain Hunter's bony brow.

Still groaning, I threw my covers off and hopped out of the bed. I was still dressed in the clothes I'd had on from my foray into the woods yesterday morning, and let me tell you, they smelled _bad_. Like, kill-all-the-plants-in-a-10-foot-radius bad. I tried not to gag as I tossed them into a laundry hamper. Things like that didn't usually bother me, but hey, even _I_ have standards.

Fortunately, I had many copies of my traditional hunting outfit (what can I say? I'm a creature of a habit). I picked out a fresh pair of black leggings and a black tunic, taking a moment to admire the silver trim. Now that I knew the truth of my godly parentage, I understood my attraction to the color, and viewed the outfit with a newfound sense of appreciation and, yes, even pride.

Aware that it was unwise to keep two gods and an impatient Hunter waiting for much longer, I quickly stepped into the leggings and pulled the tunic over my head. I fastened my belt back at my waist, attaching my hunting knife in its sheath to my right hip. I looked around for a pair of shoes. The only thing I saw was a set of combat boots not unlike the ones worn by Zoë and the other Hunters. I didn't think they'd been there the night before, but I shrugged and laced them on.

I walked over to my bed and grabbed my hunting pack from its position propped against the bed frame. I rifled through it to make sure everything was there. Tent, check. Extra outfit, check. Spare knife, check. Emergency rations, check. Nectar and ambrosia, check. Mortal first-aid kit, check. I nodded in satisfaction. "Looks like we're good to go," I muttered to myself, and strode to the door.

Before I opened it, I took one last look around Apollo's cabin, the place where I'd lived the majority of life. I figured there wasn't much chance I'd ever see it again, so I tried to memorize the interior layout: my bed in the corner, the central fireplace, the kitchen area in another corner, the wardrobe. I sighed and gave a short salute. Then I turned, opened the door, and exited my childhood home for the last time.

Apollo, Artemis, and Zoë were waiting at the edge of the woods, deep in conversation. Apollo was dressed in his typical red tracksuit, though the red didn't seem quite as glaringly bright today. Artemis and Zoë wore the garments of the Hunters: a white shirt with a silver jacket, silver camouflage pants, and black combat boots. They went quiet and looked up as I approached. With a slight sense of amusement, I noticed the differing emotions in their eyes.

Apollo looked upset. I could see his regret that he couldn't do anything about my situation, and his sadness at parting with me, possibly for good. I knew he felt responsible for me, and he hated that he was so helpless to stop what was inevitable at this point. Helplessness was probably not a sentiment that gods experienced very often.

Artemis' eyes were the most difficult to read. She seemed to be making a concerted effort to mask her feelings from me, but, like her brother, I saw a hint of regret there as well. I thought I detected residual anger, probably at Apollo for not revealing my existence to her until now, and there was still that underlying current of affection that she seemed not to know what to do with, but was unable to deny.

Zoë's volcanic black orbs held the usual contempt and disdain I'd expected, but for some reason, it seemed forced, almost… fake. As much as Artemis was trying to mask her feelings, it seemed Zoë was attempting to do the same, though instead of keeping her expression blank, she was using her typical aloof visage to hide her true feelings. I couldn't be sure, but I reckoned I saw the same touch of pity and compassion in her gaze that I'd seen when she first laid eyes on me. I resisted the urge to scowl at her. Sooner or later, I was going to have to have a conversation with her about that. I didn't know why she seemed to pity me, but I knew for sure that, as I said before, I didn't want or need her pity.

The sun god was the first to speak. "Well, Orion…" he said glumly. "Looks like this is goodbye."

I nodded and gave him a small smile. "Farewell, not goodbye," I corrected, though my heart wasn't in it. I knew I wasn't likely to see him again. I tried to encourage him a bit. "And Apollo… don't beat yourself up. It isn't your fault. I know you feel bad about not being able to do anything, but I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't. I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame you either. In fact, what I _should_ be doing is thanking you." I stared into his eyes, liquid silver to sky blue. "Thank you, Apollo. You were the one who raised me. You protected me, taught me everything I know. I will forever be grateful for that."

Unbelievably, Apollo looked on the verge of tears now. But he controlled himself and nodded. "It was the least I could do." He sniffed. "You're a good kid, Orion."

I gave him a thumbs up, and moved down the line to face his sister.

My mother looked at me for a second before stepping forward and, for the second time in as many days, embracing me. I returned her hug a little less hesitantly this time.

When we separated, she studied my eyes, the silver discs that were nearly identical to hers. "There is so much I wish to say to you, my son," she said softly. "But I fear I will never have the time. As much as I dislike what my brother did, I understand that he could not break his oath. Zeus knows I have forgiven him for far worse things than hiding your existence. In any case, whatever happens, Orion, know this: I am proud of you. Love is a difficult emotion for me, but know that I _do_ care for you. And I will continue to search for some way to save you."

I couldn't help it; my vision began to blur as my eyes watered. I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears. I was _not_ going to cry in front of Zoë Nightshade. With no small effort, I was able to get my rebellious eyes under control. I managed another weak smile. "Thank you, mother." I feared my voice would start breaking if I said any more.

Finally, I stood in front of the lieutenant of the Hunt. If anything, the pity in her eyes had gone up a notch after my little display with Artemis. At this point, though, I was in no mood to be hostile to her. I gave her a nod and gestured to the trees. "Shall we?"

Zoë stared inscrutably at me for a second longer before returning my nod. "Let us depart," she said, and together, the two of us bounded off into the woods.

I didn't look back. I wasn't sure I could keep it together if I did.

* * *

Artemis watched dejectedly as her son raced off into the woods side-by-side with her lieutenant.

 _Her son._ The words sounded foreign in her thoughts – they simply weren't meant to go together. But now that it had inexplicably happened, she found herself quickly warming to the idea.

She hadn't known what to think at first. Obviously, she had been furious at her brother for keeping something as big as this a secret from her. He had spent much of the past night in her tent at her Hunters' camp, trying to convince her to forgive him. And eventually, like always, she did. After all, he couldn't have broken his oath. But just because she had forgiven him didn't mean her anger had entirely abated.

The idea of being a mother was completely alien to her. It was always somewhat ironic to her that the Greeks had worshipped her, an eternal maiden goddess, as the goddess of childbirth. Now that she actually _had_ a child, even one that was created by the combination of a piece of her essence with a mortal's, she felt some hole begin to fill within her – a hole she never even knew existed.

Artemis heaved a sigh. But of course it couldn't be that simple. Just when she had found her son, she had learned that his life would soon end, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Or at least, that's what Apollo had said. If there was any possible way for her to save Orion, she intended to find it.

Speaking of Apollo, she noticed her twin had glanced over at her when he caught her sigh. He had a knowing look on his face. "It's hard, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "Wanting to do something, knowing that you _should_ do it, but not being able to. All you can do is stand by and watch."

Artemis got the feeling he wasn't just talking about Orion's fate. "I already told you, brother," she said. "I forgive you for your deception. You did what you had to do. But that does not meant I do not wish I could have spent more time with my son."

"I know," Apollo said. He said nothing for a while. Then: "You… you might still be able to," he said slowly.

Artemis sharply turned her head to stare at him. "Explain."

The sun god took a deep breath. "When you didn't know of his existence, I knew there was no way he could survive. But now that you know… there may be a way to save him. You are the only one who can. But it is dangerous, and will require near-perfect timing. And there is no guarantee it will work. Even if it does, he might not be the same. Do you still wish to hear it?"

Artemis didn't even need to think about her answer. "Tell me."


	5. Chapter 5: Parley

**Hey guys! I don't really have much to say about this chapter, except for the fact that I've been dealing with the aftereffects of pink eye for the past few days and my vision still isn't 100%, so if there are any errors or grammar mistakes, etc I missed then I apologize for that. Also, this was the new hardest chapter to write, mostly because of the character development I'm trying to show and the massive amounts of dialogue. I'm pretty satisfied with how it came out. Let me know if you agree with that or not in your reviews :)**

 **As always, I appreciate constructive criticism, etc... you know the drill.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or, unfortunately, the character of the hook-handed man (brownie points if you know what he's from though :) He'll be playing a minor role in this story, just because I love his character so much, even though he really has nothing to do with this I couldn't resist adding him in..**

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Chapter 5: Parley

I was starting to be grateful that Apollo and Artemis had forced me to rest instead of setting off last night.

Just as my mother hinted, I was able to call on the power she and her Hunters made use of to cross vast distances in shorter time. I reached inside myself and tapped into the energy I used to summon my bow and katana, and the distance seemed to bend around myself and Zoë. The trees ferried us forward, speeding our progress, and before I knew it, we were crossing through into Pennsylvania.

But man, was it draining.

By the time we stopped for the first night at the southwestern end of the Allegheny National Forest in northwestern Pennsylvania, I was ready to collapse. I had barely set up my magic tent and climbed into it before I passed out. Zoë seemed to understand, and didn't even bother arguing about who would take first watch. Part of me felt I should have been affronted, but frankly, I was too tired to care.

Speaking of Zoë Nightshade… I just could not figure out that girl. On the outside, she maintained her aloof, man-hating exterior, but it was starting to feel more and more like a façade. Every now and then, I caught her glancing at me with that strange pitying expression, and it just made me more inclined to dislike her. The whole journey through New York and Pennsylvania, we hadn't so much as exchanged a word. There was an undercurrent of tension between us that I wasn't quite sure I wanted to try and break.

The pain was also getting worse.

It started as normal when we had first set off: just a dull ache that permeated throughout my whole body. But each day, by the time we stopped for the night, it had ramped up in intensity to a steady throb, and then on the second night, a painful burning sensation. Even as tired as I was, after the first night, the pain made it incredibly difficult to get to sleep. I started taking watch more often and staying up for longer than I technically needed to before waking my companion for her shift. A few times, Zoë seemed like she wanted to make a comment about it, but she never did.

Of course, it wasn't just the pain that contributed to my lack of sleep. Even the few times that I was able to finally sink into unconsciousness, it was anything but restful. I was still plagued by dreams, which seemed to be showing me events that I thought were from the past. Each of them followed the same black-haired, green-eyed demigod that I'd dreamed about in the past.

In one dream, I saw the boy facing off against a hydra. Alongside him were a girl with blond hair and stormy grey eyes and a large young Cyclops. They were losing the fight, until an old Confederate warship suddenly appeared and blasted the thing to pieces with its cannons. Another dream showed the boy and the girl sailing off an island in an old-fashioned sailing ship while the beautiful white marble buildings on the island burned to the ground. Yet another presented a scene of the same three people from the first dream, now joined by a boy with small horns and the legs of a goat and an aggressive-looking, muscular girl with dark hair. In a way, she reminded me slightly of Zoë. The blond girl carried what looked to be a piece of solid gold sheepskin… could it be? The actual Golden Fleece? It wouldn't really be all that unlikely. The five were running from a giant Cyclops, who was chucking boulders at them.

But the worst dream by far took place on a cruise ship, ironically enough. The boy's friends were being restrained by monsters, including two eight-foot-tall bears that walked upright like humans. The boy himself stood in the middle of a circle of assorted monsters with his bronze sword drawn, challenging someone that looked familiar. It was a tall, nineteen-year-old boy with sandy hair and a long scar running down the left side of his face. It took me a second, because he was older, but I recognized him as the demigod from my very first dream who'd tried to help the son of Poseidon when he'd been mauled by the hellhound in the forest. I frowned. Why were they at odds now?

The blond boy said something I couldn't make out and gestured behind him, and my breath caught in my throat. A golden sarcophagus, inlaid with gruesome carvings, rested on a table a few feet off the ground. Thing was, I recognized that sarcophagus: it was the same one Krios used each night to heal me from his torture. A host of dark memories I'd tried to bury threatened to make their way back to the surface. I forced them back down.

A pegasus was dragged up onto the deck of the ship, led by one of the bear men. I'd never seen a pegasus before, but this one was solid black, and he didn't look happy to be there. The blond boy looked like he wanted to leave on the pegasus, but the black-haired demigod said something to him and he stopped, a flicker of annoyance and uncertainty passing across his face as he glanced at the monsters around him. Then it settled into a look of indifference, and he pulled his sword from his scabbard. It was unlike any sword I'd ever seen: a straight, double-edged blade, but each side of the blade was made of a different metal. One side was celestial bronze, the other seemed to be regular steel. I wondered at its significance.

As I watched, the two young demigods began to fight. The sandy-haired boy had the advantage, but then something happened. Arrows suddenly started flying out of nowhere, striking the monsters and turning them to dust. A herd of centaurs rode onto the deck and swept through the monsters' ranks, a few of them picking up the boy and his friends and depositing them on the centaurs' backs as they galloped off the ship.

None of the dreams made sense. I couldn't for the life of me understand why I was constantly being shown visions of this black-haired son of Poseidon and his friends, but I felt that it was important. I knew firsthand the evil power of that golden sarcophagus; I didn't know what the blond demigod was using it for – or indeed how he'd gotten his hands on it – but I doubted it was anything good.

It was mid-afternoon on the third day since we'd left the cabin that things came to a head.

The day started off pretty typically. Zoë, who had taken the second watch as usual, woke me at sunrise after a refreshing whole two hours of sleep. It was the night I'd had the dream about the cruise ship, so I was _not_ in a very pleasant mood. The burning of Scorpius' poison was ever-present, sapping my strength. That, combined with my fatigue from using my energy to travel faster, served to worsen my already-frayed temper.

Zoë didn't bother to make small talk or try to cheer me up. We still hadn't exchanged more than a few terse words the whole trip, and now in two days we'd made it as far as some forest area in southern Ohio. Zoë had mentioned our target for the next rest stop was Shawnee National Forest in western Kentucky.

We headed off, keeping to stretches of forests where both of us could use our powers from Artemis to bend distance. But the last two days of traveling, my lack of rest, and the ache of poison in my limbs was starting to take its toll. I started lagging behind, a few times thinking I'd lost track of Zoë entirely, but I always caught up enough to be able to sense the call of the Hunt in her.

One such time when I fell behind, I reunited with her quicker because I noticed she had suddenly stopped. I started to ask her what was wrong, but her hand shot up and clamped my mouth shut. I glared at her, but she shook her head and gestured to the trees around us. I closed my eyes and tried to extend my senses, focusing on the song of the wild.

Something wasn't right, that was for sure.

Leaves rustled. A branch cracked to my left.

The shadows of the trees started to elongate, morphing into gateways of darkness, and out stepped a horde of hellhounds.

Now, this may surprise you, but I'm not a big fan of hellhounds. Just seeing them again reminded me of the night I'd fled from Krios, and my blood boiled. I still had a personal vendetta against hellhounds. And as I know I've mentioned before, they stink.

Zoë and I stood back-to-back and summoned our bows. Without hesitating, we began to pelt them with arrows, trying to take as many down as we could before they got closer.

Inevitably, though, they padded forward, growling menacingly, and charged at us. We tossed aside our bows. Zoë drew her hunting knives, and I summoned my katana. We let the hounds come to us and cut them down as they did.

But as efficient as we were, one got past our guard. It was enormous, even for a hellhound, and it leapt at us from the side, driving us apart.

There were a lot of the beasts, but Zoë and I were experienced fighters. Due to my weakened state, I took quite a few more wounds than I should have: a bite on the shoulder, a slash from a claw on my thigh. Zoë had a small scratch across her cheek, but other than that, she was untouched.

Finally, we managed to kill them all, dissolving the last one into golden dust that blew away on the mid-afternoon breeze. I was drenched with sweat, bleeding from my shoulder and thigh, and exhausted, but still standing. The pain from Scorpius' poison burned hotter than it had since I'd passed out in the woods near Apollo's cabin. I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. Zoë walked towards me, her mouth opening to say something.

I felt a sudden twinge in my gut. I searched the forest, scanning for anything out of place, and I thought I saw a flash as the noon sunlight reflected off of something metal.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The arrow came rocketing out of the trees, heading straight for Zoë Nightshade. I didn't think. There wasn't time. I leaped in front of her and tackled her.

I felt something sharp pierce my shoulder blade (the same shoulder with the bite wound), followed by a spike of pain. I gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of me. Fortunately, my fall was slightly cushioned thanks to the Hunter I'd just taken an arrow for.

With a grunt, I felt Zoë crawl out from under me and watched through hazy eyes as she sprinted off into the woods in the direction the arrow had come from.

The combined pain from all my wounds was too much, and I felt my consciousness fading. _Why in Hades did I just do that?_ was my last thought.

* * *

Zoë couldn't believe it. The imbecile had thrown himself in front of an arrow for her. As she raced off in pursuit of the assassin, she tried to understand what had just happened.

She'd calculated the arrow's trajectory; it would've pierced her heart and killed her almost instantly. But somehow, the boy, her mistress' son – she still didn't entirely understand that part – had saved her. She had been nothing but disdainful and callous towards him, and she could tell he didn't like her either. Yet he had still put her wellbeing ahead of his own. She didn't understand it.

But she resolved to figure that out another time. Right now, she had an assassin to capture.

The man was fast, but this was a forest, the Hunters' territory. She caught up to him fairly quickly and wrestled him to the ground.

The man was wearing a black, pattern-less cloak with the hood pulled up over his head. The cowl overshadowed his face, obscuring his features, but Zoë could see a pair of striking blue eyes staring up at her. They seemed to gaze straight through to her soul, and she shivered involuntarily. She also noticed that instead of his right hand, a metal hook protruded from his sleeve.

Zoë drew one of her knives and held it to the man's throat. He didn't bother struggling. "Tell me what I wish to know, and I might let you live," the lieutenant growled.

The blue eyes looked amused. "My dear Zoë Nightshade," a calm, deep voice said. "One day, you will understand. I did what I had to in order to ensure the future plays out in the way that it must."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

The man just smiled at her. "Eventually, you will have your answers. But not now. We shall meet again." He gestured with his hook, and his form melted into shadow and disappeared.

Zoë frustratingly shook her now-empty hands. She had no idea what had just happened, but the man's nonsense about protecting the future didn't reassure her of his intentions. After all, he'd shot an arrow at her. With a start, she realized that she'd left Orion back where they'd fought the hellhounds so that she could chase after the assassin. If something had happened to him…

She got back to her feet and raced back to where she'd left Orion. Her blood ran cold when she saw him.

She didn't know if it was the new arrow wound or not, but his injuries looked far worse than she'd originally thought. His right shoulder sported a large, bloody bite mark on the top, and the shoulder blade was pierced with the arrow that had been meant for her. His left thigh was slashed open, probably by a claw. His body was trembling, though it was clear he wasn't conscious.

A strange feeling Zoë couldn't identify bloomed in her gut. She frowned and decided to ignore it. She bent down and combed through Orion's pack. She dug out his supply of nectar and ambrosia, as well as his mortal first-aid kit. Moving quickly, she reached into her own belongings, grabbed her tent, and expanded it into its full form. She lifted Orion in her arms and carried him inside, laying him on the bed.

As he lay there, she had a flash of déja vu. After all, this wasn't the first time she'd helped treat wounds of his, though he didn't know that. He'd been unconscious the whole time.

Taking stock of his injuries, Zoë decided the first order of business was to remove the arrow shaft still embedded in his shoulder. She poured a tiny amount of nectar onto the skin around the wound, hoping that would help numb the pain. She also broke off a square of ambrosia and managed to coax Orion into swallowing it. Then she grasped the arrow, prayed it wasn't barbed, and started to pull.

It slid out much easier than she expected, and she tossed it aside in disgust. Zoë opened the first-aid kit and pulled out a simple bandage cloth. Soaking it a bit in the nectar, she used it to clean out the bite mark, arrow wound, and claw slash as thoroughly as she could. Then she used the remaining bandages to wrap the wounds tightly, making sure to not cut off his blood flow entirely.

Her work done, the Hunter leaned back and grabbed a wooden stool, placing it next to Orion's bed. As the day wore on into dusk, she took a moment to study the demigod that lay in front of her. She knew he must have been in pain, but in sleep, he showed no sign of it, his face peaceful and content. His normally fair complexion was paler than usual, his black hair mussed after the fight with the hounds. While he was unconscious, Zoë was able to view him in a way she never could when he was awake. She could tell he always tried to hide his true emotions from her, and besides, they'd barely talked the whole two-and-a-half days they'd been together.

She still wasn't quite sure what to make of him. She remembered the gruesome scars on his back and chest from the tortures he had endured, and for some reason, it incited in her a natural protectiveness toward him. At least, until he opened his mouth. She grimaced. Their first meeting, the boy's personality was nearly insufferable. She had only refrained from striking him because Lady Artemis had restrained her.

And that was as it should be. They were supposed to hate each other. After all, she knew that all men were selfish pigs at heart. And from what she could tell, he didn't think very highly of her either. Despite that, every time she tried to dislike him, her rebellious mind kept conjuring the grotesque image of his ruined back and pockmarked chest. She couldn't bring herself to generalize Orion into the same category as other males, because everything she'd seen suggested otherwise.

He'd thrown himself in front of an arrow that would have killed her. He'd endured years of torture and survived, still sane, and unlike most males would have done, he hadn't turned his anger outwards and used it against others. No, from what she remembered from her conversation with Artemis the morning they left, it was the exact opposite: instead of lashing out, he'd turned his anger _inward_. He blamed himself. He thought he was broken, that he wasn't even worthy of anyone caring for him. How could she hate someone who already hated himself so much?

She was beginning to understand that his sarcastic and often caustic temperament was most likely just a shield he put up to prevent anyone from getting too close. Zoë could relate to that. For centuries, she'd constructed walls around herself as well, only ever letting in Artemis and her sisters in the Hunt. She had sworn off the company of men, and she had felt secure in the knowledge that no men were deserving of her attention. But now she was starting to doubt that the aloof and derisive exterior she presented to all but the Hunt was, like Orion's cynicism, nothing more than a mask.

Perhaps some males _were_ worthy of her attention. She had already come to respect Orion for what he had done. Was it possible that respect could turn into friendship? The bigger question was: did she want it to? To that, Zoë did not yet have an answer.

Beside her stool, on the bed, Orion stirred. Zoë tried to put her previous thoughts out of her head. Orion winced, and his eyes, so unnervingly silver like his mother's, slowly blinked open. They landed on Zoë and his brow furrowed.

"Unghh… what happened?" he asked, his voice like sandpaper.

"We were attacked by hellhounds," Zoë answered. "You sustained some not-insignificant wounds in the fight." She allowed her voice to take on a stern tone. "Did I not say you were being foolish to deprive yourself of rest? If you had not already been weakened, you would not have even broken a sweat in this skirmish. But instead, I have had to spend the rest of the afternoon treating your injuries."

Orion pushed himself up onto his arms, groaning. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost six hours."

His eyes went wide. "We've lost almost half a day?" He started to get up. "We need to get back on the road."

Zoë closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She couldn't understand why he was so concerned about their time frame. She put a hand on Orion's arm and he flinched. She noted his reaction but didn't comment. "You need to rest," Zoë said forcefully, her tone brooking no argument. "You were only in such a poor state from your injuries because you have been driving yourself into the ground. The cave is not going anywhere, but if you do not rest, I doubt you will make it there."

But the son of Artemis shrugged off Zoë's restraining hand. "You don't understand," he said. "We need to go."

"No," she said firmly. "You. Must. Rest. If we continue at our previous pace, you will be dead by the time we reach the cave."

An amused expression seemed to cross his face. "I already know _that_ much," he said bitterly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Artemis didn't tell you?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"Tell me what?"

Orion waved her off. "It doesn't matter," he said.

She frowned. "Clearly, it does. What are you hiding?"

His eyes wandered around the tent, looking everywhere but at her. "Why do you care?" he said suddenly. "Why should it matter what I'm hiding? You're only here because my mother forced you to accompany me. After this is over, you'll probably forget I even existed."

"Part of that is true," Zoë admitted, deliberately ignoring his first question. She still hadn't figured out an answer. "I would not have come if Lady Artemis had not insisted. But it matters because your mother charged me to protect you, so if something is worrying you, you should tell me about it." He scowled. Zoë couldn't stop herself from adding softly, "And as for forgetting you… I imagine that would be difficult. You have already made quite an impression."

Orion turned his head and gazed at her with an unreadable expression. She presumed he was gauging her words and tone, trying to determine if there was some kind of underlying meaning or insult.

The black-haired demigod seemed to accept her words at face value. He slumped back down on the bed and closed his eyes. "Alright, I'll rest," he conceded. "But wake me at nightfall. I'm not losing a whole day."

Zoë nodded. "Very well." She leaned back against the tent wall and considered what she'd told Orion.

She didn't know what had possessed her to say that. The strange thing was, she realized that she meant it. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd saved her life, or maybe it was just the memory of his scars that she couldn't drive out of her head, but she found that the enigmatic son of Artemis had certainly made an impression on her. She even acknowledged that he had earned her respect, something that was not easy to do.

"I'm dying." The words were spoken so quietly and so suddenly Zoë thought she'd imagined them. She looked inquisitively over at Orion, and though his eyes remained closed, he sighed. "You asked me what Artemis didn't tell you… I'm dying. That's why I'm in such a hurry to get to the cave. I probably only have a little less than a week left before… yeah."

His meaning didn't immediately penetrate Zoë's comprehension. When she realized what he'd said, and that he was serious, she felt that same unidentifiable feeling in her gut she'd had earlier. What was this uncomfortable fluttering sensation? After a second, she found her voice and responded. "What?" she said, and her voice sounded a little hoarse.

Orion grunted. "I'd really rather not repeat it."

"How?" Zoë asked.

"It's… it's a long story. But suffice it to say that I've been afflicted by an incurable poison that is slowly eating away at my life force and will eventually consume my soul."

He delivered the news in such a casual tone. Zoë was baffled. "Do you actually _want_ to die or something?" she wondered.

Finally, Orion opened his eyes and looked at her. There was a glint of amusement in them. "Funny, Artemis asked me that same question," he said quietly. "I'll tell you essentially what I told her: no, I don't really want to die. But I don't exactly have much to live for either. If I wasn't on this mission right now, what would I be doing? Wasting away in the woods alone, spending my days hunting? What kind of existence is that?"

So many responses fought for attention in Zoë's head she could barely pick one. She settled for, "What about Camp Half-Blood?"

Orion snorted. "What _about_ Camp Half-Blood?" he echoed. "I'm a child of Artemis… think about it. How would they treat me? I'd never be accepted. I have no interest in living somewhere I'm just going to be shunned."

Zoë wasn't an expert on the demigod camp, but she had to admit he was probably right. Every time the Hunters had stayed at Camp Half-Blood, they were not shown very much respect by the campers. If that was how the honored handmaidens of Artemis were treated, there wasn't much reason to suspect her offspring would be treated any better. In fact, since she was known as a maiden goddess, he would likely be treated even worse.

Still, she didn't think that was reason enough to essentially give up on life. "I'm sure your mother would allow you to join the Hunters if you asked her," she suggested.

Orion scowled. "No thanks. Same issue: Artemis may have accepted me as her own, but that doesn't mean the Hunters would. I'm still a male. And if your attitude towards me is anything to go by, I would imagine the rest of them would also tend to consider that a deal-breaker, no matter who my mother is."

To her surprise, she found that his words actually stung a bit. _You don't know anything about my attitude towards you,_ Zoë thought. _Because even I haven't figured it out yet_. But out loud, she said, "Still… I do not think that makes your life worthless. There are plenty of things worth living for."

Orion fell silent, pondering her words. After a few minutes, Zoë heard his breathing slow, and she realized he had fallen asleep. Once again, she studied him, taking in the elegant features of his face. _How can one person carry so much misery alone?_ she wondered. Zoë still hadn't completely decided whether she was willing to extend an offer of friendship to a male – a flag of truce, as it were – but she _had_ decided this: if she could help him bear some of his burden, she would try. No one deserved to shoulder what he had gone through on his own.

* * *

For the first time in about four days, my sleep was dreamless.

I can't tell you how much of a relief that was. When Zoë woke me at nightfall for us to continue on our journey, I felt better than I had since before we'd left. The constant discomfort from Scorpius' poison still lingered, of course, but my mind felt more alert and my energy was replenished.

As the two of us jogged through the shadows of the trees under the protective eye of the moon, I couldn't get my conversation with Zoë earlier this evening out of my head. It was the first real, civilized conversation we'd ever managed, and the more I replayed it in my mind, the stranger I found it.

Throughout the entire discourse, the Hunter had seemed to be encouraging me. She had never once insulted me (unless you counted her suggestion that I could fit in with the Hunters as an insult) or come across as the prideful, contemptuous man-hater I'd always pegged her as. I was beginning to wonder if I'd been a little hasty in forming my opinion of her.

To my credit, we hadn't exactly started off on the friendliest of notes. I admit, however, that may have been my fault. I kept catching those unexplainable looks of pity in her eyes, and it just rubbed me the wrong way. It made me feel bad when people feel bad for me, if that makes any sense.

I frowned. That reminded me… I hadn't gotten a chance to bring that up during our little discussion earlier. I was starting to develop a theory about why she might pity me, and if I was right, I had a bone to pick with my mother. But I hadn't remembered to confirm or deny it when I was talking to Zoë. Now that we both knew we could actually speak to each other like civilized human beings, it seemed to have eased some of the tension between us. I felt a little more willing to open up a conversation with her, so I made a mental note to talk to her about that issue the next time we stopped.

We crossed into Kentucky. There weren't any more major monster attacks like the hellhounds earlier that afternoon, but we did run into a few uglies. A Cyclops tried to pick a fight with us as we passed by an old abandoned mansion, but we took him out easily. A few _empousai_ were hanging around a campfire in the woods, and Zoë and I decided it was probably better for us to leave them alone. We skirted as far around the firelight as we could.

Aside from that, the night passed fairly uneventfully. We still traveled in silence. I could feel the slow drain on my energy from using my powers from Artemis, but it was steadily being counteracted by the soft silver glow of the moon above us, sustaining me. Thankfully, the moon's energy also relieved some of the ache from Scorpius' poison. All in all – especially for someone who just had a bite taken out of his shoulder, a claw tear through his thigh, and an arrow hole in his back – I felt fantastic.

The night was pleasantly cool, the air still. The moon seemed to augment our ability to travel quicker, and after a few hours, we arrived in Shawnee National Forest, our pre-planned resting point. We made a brief stop, and I decided to suggest something to Zoë.

"We should keep going."

She looked at me a little strangely, and I couldn't tell if it was because of what I said or just the fact that _I_ was the one who'd started a conversation. "Why?" she said.

I pointed up to the moon. "My mother gives us strength," I explained. "The night is our territory, and the moon is waning but still near full. It makes more sense for us to travel at night when we are stronger and rest during the day, when we are weaker."

Surprisingly, Zoë accepted my idea with little resistance and gave me a short nod. "Very well," she said tersely. She prepared to run off again, but I stopped her.

"Wait," I called.

She directed her attention back to me.

I took a deep breath. "What you said earlier… do you really believe it?" She studied me carefully, and once again, I saw pity in her gaze. This time, I pounced on it before I could forget. "There it is again!" I said.

Zoë frowned. "What?"

"You keep staring at me with that gods-damned pitying look in your eyes. Why?"

She peered at me again, then seemed to give in, and she sighed. "Do you know what happened when the Hunters rescued you from Krios?"

I was confused. What did this have to do with Krios? "I was unconscious the whole time, so I don't exactly remember it, but Apollo said my wounds were too severe for Artemis to heal, so she called him. He took me back to his cabin and healed me there."

"That is… partially true," she said hesitatingly. "But it is not the whole truth. In actuality, we healed most of your wounds."

Now it was my turn to frown. "'We'?"

"Yes, Lady Artemis and I. Your back… when we found you, your back was in ruins. We treated it as best we could, and then moved onto your chest. It was then that Artemis declared there was something she could not heal, and made to call on her brother. I assume now that what she found was the traces of Scorpius' poison within you."

Of course… Zoë had seen my scars. So it turned out my theory _was_ correct, though at least she hadn't learned of them from Artemis. But then a new thought occurred to me.

"Hang on," I said. "You helped my mother heal me? Why? I'm just another male you hate…" I trailed off as she said nothing. "Right?"

The Hunter sighed once more. "Truthfully," she replied, "I do not know. For a time, yes. I thought your personality was insufferable." I gave her a wry grin and winked, and she grimaced. "That is exactly what I'm talking about." Her voice softened a bit. "But I have seen what you've endured, and I suppose I can understand why you would wish to defend yourself with cynicism."

"Defend myself?" I asked carefully. This conversation was starting to sail into uncomfortable waters.

"Yes," she said bluntly. "You use your abrasive personality as a shield so that you don't have to get close to anyone." Hey now… abrasive personality?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Even to myself, the words sounded empty.

Zoë raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced either.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" I demanded. "'Yes, Zoë, you're exactly right, I've been scarred for life and I don't want to trouble anyone with trying to pick up the pieces, so instead I push everyone away so they don't have to deal with it.' Is that what you're looking for?"

I ran a hand through my hair and scratched the back of my head. I hadn't exactly meant to lash out like that, but her words hit a little too close to home and I spoke without thinking. Because the sad truth was, Zoë _was_ right: my sarcasm was just a front. Finding a way to make fun of everything was a method for me to ignore the painful reality of how the world really worked and to forget everything that had happened to me.

But I also couldn't stand the thought of someone else suffering because of what I'd been through. As a result, my cynicism served the additional purpose of making me distinctly unlikable. If no one ever wanted to get to know me, then, well, no one could be hurt by my past.

Somehow, in three short days, Zoë had figured that out. And for some reason, instead of running off screaming in the opposite direction, she'd talked to me about it, trying to learn more. It made no sense.

"I don't get it," I blurted out. "Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"

Zoë gazed down at me with that same expression on her face, the one I'd thought had been full of pity. Now, though, I realized it wasn't pity that I was seeing; this time, I saw sympathy, empathy, even compassion. "Because," she said softly. "I know what it is like to fear your past. I know what it is like to shut everyone out. And I know that the only way to move on is to let someone in." She sighed and sat down cross-legged on the leaf-litter. "I realize you have no reason to like me, or even to trust me, but when I saw your back…" She shuddered. "I remember thinking that no one – yes, not even a _male_ – deserved what had been done to you. It was inhuman." I sat down next to her, and she glanced over at me. "You asked me why I care. I could turn that same question back on you. Why did you save me?" she questioned. "I have been nothing but rude and disrespectful to you."

I'd asked myself that question a dozen times today already. "There wasn't time to think," I said. "I just acted. Just because I may not like you doesn't mean I want you to die."

Zoë nodded. "You wish to know why I care? Perhaps it is because, despite your nearly insufferable personality, you are one of the few males I have met whom I believe is worthy of my respect."

Shocked, I turned my head and gaped at her. Had I heard that right? 'What?" I managed to choke out.

"You escaped from the palace of a Titan and fought him in single combat," Zoë said.

"I didn't win that," I protested. "He knocked me out!"

She continued, ignoring my interjection. "You endured years of torture without losing your sanity, or your humanity."

"Well, yeah, but it's not like –"

"And you risked your life to save mine."

I had no response to that.

"You may think you are worthless, Orion," she said gently. "But I think you may find that others will disagree with you."

She fell silent and I looked down. Her hand was extended toward me in a clear offer of friendship. I hesitated only for a second before grasping it tightly. She smiled, a true, genuine smile, and I couldn't help but match it.

"Now, don't get any funny ideas," Zoë warned. "I'll still kick your ass if you get on my nerves."

I smirked. Maybe a friendship with her would turn out to be more entertaining than antagonizing her. "I don't doubt you will." I stood and stretched, then motioned towards the expanse of darkness in front of us. "Shall we, milady?" I bowed mockingly.

"Indeed we shall," she agreed, ignoring my jibe, and we raced into the trees once more.


	6. Chapter 6: Ghosts of the Past

**First off, sorry that this chapter is a day late. I fell behind on my progress because of my eye problems and the pile of school work I've had to get through lately. Gotta love the last month of the semester, right? Anyways, I like this chapter but part of me feels like it felt a little... rushed, I guess. Let me know what you think.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or the hook-handed man (once again, brownie points if you know what he's from).**

* * *

Chapter 6: Ghosts of the Past

One of the main downsides to our speedy method of travel – the other being the drain on our energy – was that in order to make use of it, we had to stick to forested areas. Unfortunately, the most direct route from northern New York to southern California would lead straight through the heart of the Midwest, an area which, one may notice, is often decidedly lacking as far as woodlands go. There were stretches of dozens of square miles without even so much as a single tree.

As a result, as we passed through Missouri, towards Kansas, Zoë and I were forced to veer farther and farther north. We decided just to skip over trying to get through Kansas entirely, instead planning to travel north into Nebraska before turning back south and west, down through Colorado and eventually to our destination in southern California.

I wasn't too happy with the delay, of course. Every extra hour we spent wandering through nameless patches of forests in Nebraska was one less hour I had left to live, and as accepting as I was of my impending death, I had a journey to complete before it came. Each mile north out of our way worsened my mood, until I thought for sure Zoë was going to renege on our newfound friendship and stick an arrow through my chin just to shut me up from my grumbling.

Surprisingly, however, she remained remarkably understanding. She recognized the reason behind my grumpiness and didn't try to force me into conversation about it, something for which I was very grateful. Even after our reconciliation, it didn't sit well with me that she'd helped heal me when I'd escaped Krios. Don't get me wrong; it's not like I didn't _want_ to be healed. But I wished it had been anyone else, a nameless Hunter I'd never meet. The fact that it was Zoë… I kept getting this strange, unidentifiable feeling in my chest every time I thought about her caring for me while I was wounded. She'd seen me at my weakest, most vulnerable point, and it made me uncomfortable.

We continued with my nocturnal suggestion, resting to recover our energy in the day and setting out again once the sun dipped below the horizon. By traveling at night, under the soft glow of the moon, our energy drained much slower, so despite the detour up north, we ended up making a similar pace to the first leg of our quest. Also similar to the first part of our journey, the distance passed mostly in silence. The difference, however, was plainly noticeable. Before, where the silence had been charged with tension and awkwardness, it could now be accurately described as amicably companionable.

That was something else for which I was very grateful to Zoë. I hadn't noticed it at the time, but the tension between us had slowly been fraying my nerves – even more so than they already had been. I really hadn't appreciated my mother forcing me to travel with someone who I, of course, mistakenly assumed would hate me for no other reason than the fact that I was male. Because of that, I'd been callous and hostile to her in my own right, preempting her aggression. But Zoë had had the courage to move past that and talk to me, attempting to break through my exterior shell. By clearing the air between us, she had made the journey unbelievably more bearable.

Letting her in had not been an easy decision. But I think I finally realized that allowing someone to care for me wasn't really my choice; I could either accept it and maybe learn to care for them in return, or I could stay bitter, denying her attempt at friendship and poisoning our interaction. I gave friendship a try, and when I finally had opened up slightly to Zoë, it felt like a huge weight off my shoulders. It was a strange feeling, having someone I knew I could trust to watch my back, but it was a good type of strange.

Of course, there was a small amount of lingering guilt that I hadn't told her my entire story. Sometimes, I couldn't help but fear that she would abandon me when she found out how broken and desolate I really was. I felt like she only wanted a friendship with me because she thought she could help me, and once she realized that she couldn't, she would give up and flee. Only a few days ago, the idea of her leaving me to make the journey on my own would have made me ecstatic, but now, the mere possibility filled me with apprehension.

I ruminated on those delightful thoughts as we finally passed through Nebraska and into Colorado. It was somewhere around three in the morning, so we still had around four or five hours of darkness left in which to travel. We were passing through a forest maybe thirty miles west of Denver, and I was starting to get a weird feeling of déja vu. It wasn't the good type of familiarity either; more like recognizing an old elementary school bully you never wanted to see again.

I wasn't the only one who was on edge. Zoë's dark-brown ponytail whipped around her shoulders attractively as her head constantly rotated back and forth, staring intently at the woods, carefully searching for any signs of danger. There wasn't anything obvious, but still... I couldn't shake my uneasiness either.

We emerged from the forest into a clearing. Slowly, our eyes met. "I don't like this," we both said at the same time.

Zoë nodded. "Something is not right."

I agreed wholeheartedly. I was getting this feeling of familiarity for a reason, but I couldn't place why. Had I been here before? I stared around at the trees, trying desperately to figure out what was going on.

My eyes landed on the stump of an old oak tree that looked like it had been sawed off a few feet from the ground, and fear washed over me like an Arctic tidal wave. "Zoë," I said in a rush. "I know where we are. And we need to leave, _right now_."

A malicious laugh reverberated around us. "Oh, I'm afraid it's far too late for that, Orion."

With an enormous, wolfish grin, the Titan Krios stepped out of the woods. His dark blue breastplate glittered with the designs of the constellations. His Stygian iron sword was drawn, the blade seeming to draw in all the ambient light around us and amplify the darkness of the night. His helm was still absent, giving us an unobstructed view of his glowing silver eyes. Unlike my mother's soft, comforting orbs, the silver of Krios' eyes was harsh, like the glare of polished metal in the sunlight. His ten-foot form towered over us, observing his cornered prey.

I glanced over to my left. Zoë's copper skin tone had paled slightly in fear, but her alluring obsidian eyes were set with grim determination. Wait… what was that thought? Alluring? I shook my head, trying to push the image of Zoë's captivating volcanic irises out of my head and focus.

Krios was still just standing there, watching us with amusement and a touch of hunger. I decided to start the conversation. Maybe we could bluff our way out of this. "Krios, my old… _friend_." I practically spat the last word. "You're making a huge mistake. The Hunters are nearby, and I'm sure you remember the last time you encountered them, yes?"

Krios growled. "I would not easily forget it. I owe those bratty little girls payback for that." Then his smirk grew. "However, I happen to know you're bluffing." He snapped his fingers, and four Laistrygonian giants strode into the clearing.

I swallowed. Between me and Zoë, we probably could have taken Krios if we tried really, really hard. But adding four other ten-foot giants to the mix? Not hardly.

Zoë seemed to come to the same conclusion. Her face paled a little more, and the determination in her eyes was starting to be replaced by hopelessness.

We shared a look, and came to a silent agreement. I knew what was awaiting us if we were captured. There was no way I was going to let myself experience that again. _I'm sorry, Dad_ , I thought. Zoë drew her hunting knives. I summoned my katana. Together, we charged at Krios.

Noble deaths are all well and good, but the thing is, in order for it to work, you actually have to die. And Krios, unfortunately, clearly wanted us alive.

Before we'd taken so much as five steps towards him, the Laistrygonians moved to intercept us. Their huge, rough hands closed around our midsections and lifted us into the air. We hacked at their fingers with our respective bladed weapons, but their skin was tough, and the wounds barely even seemed to irritate them.

Krios chuckled evilly as we struggled helplessly in the giants' grasps. "Oh, Orion," he said. "I am going to enjoy this so very much."

He set off, leading the Laistrygonians into the forest. The trip passed like a nightmare. I had long since stopped resisting. As we went, I kept recalling flashbacks of the night I'd escaped the first time, the hounds hot on my heels. We were taking essentially the same route I'd used, just in reverse… and I was _not_ looking forward to where it ended.

The whole unpleasant ride, I stared dejectedly at the hand of the giant holding me, following the lines on his skin absentmindedly. Zoë kept trying to catch my eye. I didn't meet her gaze. How could I? I was terrified of seeing the accusation and betrayal I knew I'd find there. I'd led her to her death. If it hadn't been for me, she never would have had to leave the Hunters to go on this stupid journey. If it wasn't for me, she'd be with her sisters and my mother, sleeping peacefully in her tent. But now, just when she'd started to trust me, I'd delivered her straight back into the hands of my captors.

I almost wanted to laugh. It was all so unfair it was nearly comical. Every time something started to go right in my life, it always ended up turning on its head. I'd never really experienced friendship before, on account of my isolation by Apollo, and I never realized how much I longed for one until the chance presented itself. After our conversation the other night, after I saved her, I had allowed myself to believe I could build one with Zoë. I should have known that would be too much to hope for.

No matter where I went or what I did, the only thing I'd succeeded in doing my entire worthless existence was hurting people. My father. My mother. Apollo. Zoë. I'd failed them all. Now I was going to die without even getting a chance to tell them I was sorry… not that it would have made a difference.

I don't know how long it was before the menacing black stone palace came into view, but it was probably a few hours. Krios had once boasted to me that it was constructed to resemble Mount Othrys, the stronghold of the Titans in ancient days. The real Mount Othrys supposedly lay in ruins further west. I had never seen it, and if it was anything like Krios' fortress, I never wanted to.

The palace was made entirely of black marble, like an oversized mausoleum. Its towers stretched into the clouds as if they were greedy fingers reaching up to rip the stars down from the sky; apt, considering Krios was known as the Titan of stars and constellations. It was beautiful but terrifying, like lightning, made of fear and shadow. Just looking at the place sent shivers down my spine.

I finally looked up to check on Zoë. She was squirming and struggling in the Laistrygonian's grip, trying anything to free herself. She must have felt my stare, because she started to turn her head towards me. I felt a strong impulse to avert my eyes in shame, but I forced myself to meet her gaze. I scrutinized her expression, knowing and dreading what I would find.

But it wasn't there. Her volcanic obsidian eyes were filled with sorrow, yes, but also with compassion. They weren't accusatory in any way. I gaped at her. Why? I was undoubtedly the one who had gotten us into this mess. Then why didn't she blame me? Why didn't she hate me? I couldn't understand it.

She gave me a soft but sad smile, and my head spun. Was this what friendship was supposed to be like? To stick by someone and support them even when you know they're at fault? Was it possible that even after our initial conflicts, and all the trouble I'd caused since, Zoë really had come to care for me? Had I come to care for her?

I returned her smile, and I realized that I had already answered that question when I jumped in front of an arrow that was meant for her. Yes, I did care for her. I was more deeply concerned about the fact that I'd led her to her death than that I was going to my own. Was it so far beyond the realm of possibility that she felt the same?

We approached the palace. The Stygian iron gate opened. The entryway was made to accommodate Titans, so the Laistrygonians carrying us didn't even need to duck as we passed through. The floor, like everything else, was polished black marble, like a mahogany coffin. Greek fire burned in braziers in increments every few feet along the entry hall, casting eerie shadows on the marble. As we reached the stairs that led down into the dungeons – I was all too familiar with the layout of the palace – the Laistrygonians made to hand us off to Krios.

For one instant, as the giant's grip on me loosened, I thought I was going to be able to wriggle free. But Krios snatched me away in his left hand before I even had time to wonder if the seven-plus foot drop would injure me. I heard a grunt of pain from my right, echoing discordantly throughout the hallway. Zoë had managed to draw one of her hunting knives and plunged it into her giant's hand, but again, Krios was too fast. Even as she dropped, preparing to twist her body into a roll to break the fall, the Titan lunged forward and grabbed her out of midair. She cried out as he squeezed painfully, and I thought I heard one of her ribs crack.

An irrational fury exploded from within me, and I struggled to escape from Krios' clutches. But he held me too tightly, barely even allowing me to breathe, and my attempts were in vain. Zoë hung limply in his right hand, her energy gone, the fight drained out of her.

I felt a fierce rush of protectiveness at the sight, but there was nothing I could do. We were both helpless.

Krios chuckled heartily, savoring the moment. "Well, I suppose I would have been foolish not to expect you to try," he said. "But really, Zoë Nightshade, that was pathetic, even for you. Your father would be ashamed."

Even in her semi-conscious state, clutched in the Titan's right hand, Zoë stiffened. I watched in confusion. Krios knew her father?

"But then, you are simply an added bonus. You are not the one I have been waiting for." He turned his attention to me and smiled his predatory smirk. "Orion, my friend, it has been too long. It was quite rude of you to leave without even thanking your host for his hospitality." He fixed me with an icy glare. "I will be sure to teach you manners this time," he promised.

He dismissed the Laistrygonian giants and strode forward, down the long, winding staircase to the dungeon. The stairs seemed to descend forever, carrying us further and further down into captivity.

When we finally emerged into the dungeon, it was just as I remembered: rows of black Stygian iron bars, each cell a ten-foot square of inky darkness. The cells were each separated by a foot-thick wall of – you guessed it – black marble, with a sconce of Greek fire mounted six feet up on every other one. The ceiling rose up until it faded into shadow, giving us no indication of how far under the palace we were. The hallway of cells, too, extended as far as we could see. The place reeked of death and decay.

Krios arbitrarily selected a cell – they were all empty – and walked towards it. He gestured at the iron bars, and some of them melted into shadows, forming a small opening. He tossed Zoë haphazardly onto the stone inside the cell and waved his now-empty hand. The bars reformed, sealing her in. Zoë groaned and rolled onto her back, taking her weight off her broken rib.

I thought Krios was going to take me to a separate cell, but instead, he kept walking for what seemed like hours. The cold hand of fear gripped me as I realized where we were heading. I struggled with renewed vigor, but to no avail.

From my reignited attempts to escape, Krios correctly assumed that I'd figured out our destination. He laughed. "Oh yes, Orion," he assured me, grinning. "It's time to meet some old friends. They've been quite lonely without you."

We reached the end of the prison block, facing the black marble wall. Krios passed his hand over a section of the stone, and it began to melt away, just like iron bars of the cell. Soon, a doorway had opened in the wall, and Krios stepped forward. Behind him, the stone solidified back into a wall.

The sight that greeted me rekindled all the emotions I'd tried to repress: fear, anger, horror, terror, helplessness. I remembered the bite of the whip, the burn of the poisoned knife. I started to tremble involuntarily.

Krios attached restraints to my wrists and ankles, then bolted them into the wall. My back was to the Titan, my face pressed against the cold, apathetic marble.

His dissonant laughter sounded from behind me, but he was no longer in my field of vision. Then I heard a _crack_ , and my heart nearly stopped. "Shall we begin, Orion?"

* * *

Zoë lay on her back, staring blankly up into the shadows that shrouded the ceiling of the cell.

She couldn't believe how easily they'd been caught. For all her Hunter abilities and thousands of years of experience, they'd been ambushed and overpowered with barely any effort. The thought made her burn with shame.

She'd promised Lady Artemis she would protect Orion. But she'd failed both of them. Her mistress had trusted her with the safety of her son, and in return, Zoë had let her down.

She thought back to their trip to the palace. She'd kept trying to catch Orion's eye, to let him know how sorry she was, but he hadn't met her gaze until the palace was in sight. When he finally had, she had poured her emotions into her eyes, trying desperately to convey her apology and her desire for his forgiveness. Orion had seemed shocked at her expression, and the thought had occurred to her that, knowing his mental state, he probably blamed himself for their capture, just as she did. So she'd smiled at him, a smile tinged with sadness, so he knew she didn't fault him.

He'd smiled back, and once again, she'd felt the same strange warmth stirring in her chest. But then they'd been separated, and now here she was, alone and helpless, left to contemplate what Krios could have possibly wanted with Orion.

She was afraid she knew exactly what was happening to the son of Artemis. She was no fool; after all, she'd seen his back and chest. Zoë knew what had happened the last time Orion was here, and she had a sinking suspicion that history was going to repeat itself.

The first thing she tried once Krios was gone was to summon her bow. She concentrated, trying to draw on the energy of the Hunt, but nothing happened. It felt like something was blocking her.

Slowly, she crawled over to the wall and pushed herself up onto her elbows and then sat down, leaning against the back wall of the cell. Her chest throbbed painfully where Krios had broken her rib, and she could see her plain white shirt slowly beginning to turn scarlet. The bone fragment had punctured her skin.

Zoë grimaced. This was _not_ going to be fun.

She slid off her silver jacket, trying not to move her chest too much. She wrapped it all the way around her body as tightly as she dared, gritting her teeth through the pain as she covered her fractured rib. Then she tied the sleeves together and shifted the jacket so that the main part of it rested across her injured chest, using it as a makeshift tourniquet. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but hopefully it would at least stop the bleeding.

Her task completed, she slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. Each labored intake of air jostled her rib and sent a fresh of wave of agony surging through her. She bit back a gasp and tried to collect herself.

As much pain as she was in, she knew Orion was probably suffering more. She didn't want to imagine what Krios was doing to him right now, but her brain betrayed her, conjuring an image of his broken form suspended limply in chains, his shirt ripped open and his back shredded. She shuddered and tried to push the thought out of her head.

The shudder quickly morphed into a shiver. Now that she wasn't wearing her jacket – having sacrificed it to try and bandage her chest – an invasive chill was starting to seep into her bones. The cold easily penetrated the marble cell walls around her; in fact, the polished stone seemed to conduct and amplify it.

The hours dragged on. Zoë sat there, leaning against the stiff, unforgiving black marble, until her back grew sore and her legs started to go numb. She tried to work herself into a more comfortable position, but she ended up just laying back down on the cold stone floor of her cell. The cold, darkness, and isolation were starting to wear on her. She felt so drained, and she worried that her blood loss from her injury was worse than she had originally thought. She wanted to be awake in case Orion returned (assuming he did… she tried not to dwell on that possibility) but she could barely keep her eyes open.

Soon, they unwillingly fluttered shut, and she drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Loud footsteps echoed through the corridor, startling Zoë awake. She opened her eyes, briefly wondering how long she'd slept for.

The Titan Krios approached the cell. He hadn't changed out of his armor, and the dim light of the Greek fire reflected off the engraved constellations of his breastplate, illuminating them with a ghastly jade glow. The armor on his legs was dark blue as well. In his right hand, he carried the limp form of Orion.

A drop of liquid dripped onto the floor.

Zoë tried to sit up, but had to give up when her fractured rib shifted painfully. Krios sneered at her. He waved his hand and the bars dissolved to form a small hole. He dumped Orion into the cell and the bars closed off behind him. With one last mocking glance at the cell's occupants, Krios turned and walked away, the sound of his footfalls receding as he ascended the staircase.

Slowly, so as not to inflame her wound any more than she already had, Zoë made her way on her hands and knees over to the crumpled boy who lay face-down where Krios had tossed him. It was too dark for her to get an initial assessment of his injuries from afar, but when she crawled alongside him, she couldn't stop her sharp intake of breath.

He was unconscious, that much was clear. His tunic had been ripped open, exposing his back. Under normal circumstances, that might have made Zoë slightly uncomfortable, but his skin wasn't even visible beneath the blood. The stench of his mangled back was nearly overwhelming. She remembered what his reopened scars had looked like the night the Hunters had rescued him from the woods, and even that hadn't been this bad. He was trembling, probably as much from the cold as from his wounds.

A lump formed in her throat. The same surge of protectiveness rose up within her, nearly choking her. He'd already suffered so much; he didn't deserve this.

Zoë glanced down at her silver jacket. The puncture wound from her rib had mostly stopped bleeding, so she carefully untied the sleeves of her jacket and unwrapped it from her chest. Slowly, she slipped Orion's arms into the sleeves and pulled the jacket over his bloody back. She saw him involuntarily wince in his sleep as the fabric made contact with his wounds. His slender frame still trembled, and Zoë knew she had to warm him up. As gently as she could, she picked Orion up and carried him over to the corner.

She sighed. She hoped Artemis never found out about this. With great care, she set the demigod down on the ground and sat down next to him, mimicking her previous position, leaning against the cold stone. She reached over and wrapped an arm around Orion's shoulder, pulling him alongside her. His head rested comfortably on her chest.

She tried to share her body heat with him as best she could, and after a while, his shivering subsided. Even though he was unconscious, Zoë couldn't keep the warmth from spreading to her cheeks. She _really_ hoped Artemis never found out about this. She kept trying to convince herself that it was only because he was injured; that she was just making sure he didn't catch an illness in his already weakened state; but she couldn't deny that she, too, took comfort from the warmth of his body against her.

Time was impossible to judge. They could've sat there for hours, or it could have been days. In the frigid darkness of the cell, lit only by the dull flickering light of the Greek fire in the hallway, there was no way for Zoë to know. But eventually, Orion began to stir.

His disconcertingly silver eyes blinked blearily a few times, finally focusing a vacant stare on Zoë's face. He gave her a dazzling smile. "Hi," he mumbled deliriously. "Who are you?"

Her heart clenched painfully, and she thought it stopped beating for a moment.

"You're beautiful," Orion continued, oblivious to her reaction. "At first I thought this was real, but now I know for sure it's a dream. You're way too pretty to be real." He chuckled to himself. "I had a friend like you once. She was really pretty, too. But I don't think she liked me very much. I think she was just pretending because my mommy asked her to."

Zoë hardly dared to breathe, but she risked a response anyway. "Are you sure of that?"

Orion bobbed his head a few times. "Mmhmmmmm." He dragged out the sound. "See, she didn't like men, and I'm a man. So why would she like me? I'm just like every other male… selfish, irresponsible, rude, disrespectful…"

Zoë slowly stroked his neat, jet-black hair. "You don't seem that bad to me," she said softly. "Perhaps she just hasn't yet had the chance to show you she cares."

He squinted at her uncertainly, trying to decide if she was mocking him. Eventually he shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway," he whispered sadly. "I let her down. I was supposed to lead her on a quest, but we got captured because of me. I failed her."

Each word was like one of Krios' daggers, driving deep into her heart and twisting there. She'd been right. Just as she blamed herself for not being able to protect him, Orion blamed himself for getting them caught. But that wasn't even the biggest problem.

What had Krios done to him to reduce him to incoherent ramblings like this? Zoë clenched her fist – the one that wasn't still absentmindedly running through Orion's hair. Whatever the Titan had done, he would pay dearly for it.

"You never answered my question," Orion pointed out. "Who are you?"

"My name is Zoë," she answered.

"Zoë," he repeated. His brow furrowed in bewilderment. "That name sounds familiar…" Hope blossomed in her chest. Was he coming around? But then it was abruptly crushed when he shrugged again and said, "Ah, I can't think of it. It's a nice name though."

She smiled sadly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you."

"A pretty girl for a pretty name…" He sniggered. "No no no, a pretty name for a pretty girl. That's the saying. Gods, that's so cliché. I hate cliché." He muttered a bit more, but Zoë couldn't make out what he said.

As she looked down at him in his deranged mindset, she couldn't stop a single tear from sliding down her cheek. Orion noticed it and his mutterings abruptly ceased. His hand slowly came up and he gently wiped the tear from her face with his thumb. His hand lingered for a moment, cupping her cheek. Zoë shivered and closed her eyes, trying desperately to contain her rebellious emotions.

"Why are you crying, Zoë?" he murmured.

Zoë sniffed and opened her eyes, trying to give him an encouraging smile. She didn't think she succeeded. "It's nothing," she assured him. He wasn't deterred, giving her a baleful look. She sighed. "I was like your friend once. I thought men were swine, that none of them deserved my respect. But things changed."

"What happened?"

"I met one who did. He was different than everyone else. At first, I couldn't stand him. But we traveled together for a while, and I began to realize that his qualities I'd once labeled insufferable, I now found somewhat endearing. He'd seen so much suffering, but he didn't let it affect him. He was brave, and kind. He saved my life at the risk of his own. And through it all, he never stopped joking and smiling."

"He sounds like someone special," Orion said wistfully.

Zoë looked down at him. "He was."

"What happened to him?"

She raised her gaze to stare absentmindedly at the iron bars in front of them. "He died," she said. "Because of me. I had sworn to protect him, but I failed and the two of us were caught. He was tortured into insanity. By the time he finally died, he didn't even recognize me."

"That sounds horrible," Orion said quietly.

"It was," Zoë agreed. "But that is enough depressing talk." She stroked his hair again. "You should get some rest, Orion."

He nodded and fell silent, and Zoë felt his head loll against her chest. Soon, his breathing slowed and steadied, and she realized gratefully that he'd fallen asleep.

Zoë observed his sleeping form; his black hair neat and short, his face devoid of the lines of suffering she knew he experienced daily, his body wrapped in her silver Hunter jacket. She knew if she looked, the inside would be stained with his blood. He had been tortured so badly he hadn't even recognized her. Recalling their conversation sent a stab of pain shooting through her. Zoë was terrified that he would never recover his sanity. What would she do if he never remembered her?

It had been over two thousand years since she had last felt this way, but she finally realized what it meant. And she didn't know what to do.

She finally acknowledged that she had come to care for him beyond the extent of just a friend or traveling companion. But she couldn't accept it. She had sworn an oath to renounce the company of men, and besides, he was her mistress' son for Zeus' sake. She couldn't feel this way. She _couldn't_.

It didn't make any sense. In less than a week, he'd managed to slip through all her barriers she'd constructed after Hercules. She didn't understand it. He'd done it completely unintentionally, and it had been so subtle she hadn't even realized what was happening until now… until now it was too late to stop it.

She leaned her head back against the stone, closing her eyes and focusing on the rise and fall of Orion's head in time with her breathing as he lay against her.

"It isn't too late, you know," a strangely familiar voice said.

Zoë opened her eyes. In front of her, staring down at the pair cuddled together in the corner with a slightly amused expression, was the hook-handed man from the forest. His billowing black robe made him nearly invisible against the marble of the cell wall. His startling blue eyes peered out from under his hood.

The Hunter knew she should be angry – this was the mysterious man who'd shot an arrow at her, resulting in Orion jumping in the way and injuring himself – but at the moment, with her realization of her feelings still setting in, she couldn't conjure any emotion. She felt numb. She wondered if he was even real, or if she was just delirious like Orion.

"I assure you, I am quite real," the hook-handed man said, chuckling. He leaned casually against the black marble wall of the cell. "Given up already?"

Zoë didn't answer, only resumed stroking Orion's hair. In his sleep, he snuggled further into her embrace, and once again, a single tear escaped from her eye.

The man sighed. "You care deeply for him." It wasn't a question. Strangely, the man's tone didn't sound upset – in fact, he sounded almost relieved.

Once again, Zoë remained silent. She couldn't bring herself to answer. She didn't want to admit to herself that he was right.

"You should not be ashamed," the man continued. "He is stronger than either of you realize."

"Who are you?" Zoë finally asked. "Why are you here? _How_ are you here?"

The man raised his hook hand and started absentmindedly carving patterns into the stone. The metal point left trails of glowing light on the marble. "Dangerous questions," he mused. "Yet I suppose you deserve some answers. I am Marethyu, and I am here because I must be. Orion must finish his quest if he is to survive. And he must survive."

Marethyu walked over to where the two sat together in the corner. He waved his hook, and Orion floated off of Zoë's chest and hovered in the air a few feet away. Then he crouched down beside the Hunter. "You must escape," he told her. "You must help him through what has transpired here."

She fixed him with a hopeless gaze. "We cannot. I cannot. I am too weak, and Krios has tortured Orion into insanity. He no longer remembers me."

Marethyu shook his head. "Fortunately, you are wrong. Orion is still quite sane; however, his brain has suppressed some of his memories and convinced him that he is dreaming, as a coping mechanism. I can set him on the path to recovery, but you must be the one to lead him down it. I can also heal the wound on your chest, but again, you must find a way to escape on your own, Zoë Nightshade."

He touched his hook to her ribs. She could feel the chill of the metal through her shirt. The hook began to glow with blue light, and she gasped as she felt her broken bone mending itself. It was an uncomfortable, almost tickling, sensation, and after a few seconds, Marethyu removed his hook, which was no longer glowing. Zoë briefly lifted up her shirt and exhaled in gratitude when she saw that the skin was good as new. She felt reinvigorated, as if the hook had given her a shot of adrenaline.

After he was done with her, Marethyu walked over to where Orion still levitated above the ground. He placed the hook on his forehead and murmured a few words Zoë didn't catch. Once again, the hook began to glow, and Orion shifted in his sleep. When the light faded, he looked no different. Marethyu waved his hand, and the unconscious demigod floated back down to rest against his traveling companion.

"That is the extent of what I can do," the enigmatic hook-handed man warned. "But I can also tell you this: Krios will come for him again soon. I have placed a small protective enchantment on his body. It should shield him from the majority of the pain, and help restore his energy while Krios believes he is 'torturing' him. The Titan is arrogant. He has no guards in this area of the palace; he is foolish enough to believe that his magic is enough to keep his captives imprisoned. Your best chance for escape is to surprise him when he comes to return Orion to his cell."

"What?" Zoë hissed incredulously. "You expect me to just let him endure another one of those sessions? And how are we supposed to overpower Krios without any weapons?"

"I told you," Marethyu said patiently. "My spell will protect him from the torture. But yes, you must let Krios take him; Orion needs the time to recover his strength." He nodded at the unconscious son of Artemis. "You should wake him before long and explain what's going on. And as for weapons…" He smiled and winked at her. "I might suggest making another attempt to summon your bow." Then he waved his hook, and his form blurred and melted into shadow.

* * *

 **I tried to avoid making Marethyu too... I don't know, _deus ex machina_ I guess. Yes, he sort of comes out of nowhere to help them, but he doesn't do everything for them. He heals them and gives them information and advice, but ultimate, Zoe and Orion are the ones who have to break themselves out. Let me know if you like/don't like that.**


	7. Chapter 7: Journey's End

**I AM SO, SO, SO SORRY EVERYONE.**

 **I realize that in the grand scheme of things, one month is really not all that long; I mean, plenty of fics consistently update only once every month. But my goal for this fic was to never get that behind, because I was worried that I'd lose motivation and end up not finishing the story. That has always been my worst fear, because that's basically happened with every fic I've ever tried to write before this one, and I'm determined to finish this one.**

 **That being said, I'm really sorry for leaving it this long. It turned out that the issue with my eye was worse than we originally thought, and it took nearly two weeks of constant eye drops before that cleared up and my vision was back to normal. But of course, once my vision was back, it was the end of the semester - which meant a bunch of projects and papers and stuff, not to mention final exams. Now that I'm home, I finally found the time to work on this story again.**

 **I'm wary of giving a regular timeline for updates from here on out, given my history, but I _can_ tell you that I definitely don't intend to go a month without updating again. Besides, we're almost into Part 2 now (this is the penultimate chapter of Part 1), and I am _super_ excited for Part 2 - especially the ending. I won't spoil anything, but I am really looking forward to writing Part 2, particularly the ending (which is, of course, the end of the whole story). It's gonna be great :)**

 **Anyways, thanks for sticking around through my lack of updates, and I hope this comeback chapter isn't a disappointment. Fav, follow, and review as always; I really appreciate it when you guys let me know what you think.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Journey's End

Remember when I talked about my list of "Top 5 Worst Ways to Start Your Day"? I think I mentioned something about waking up screaming being at the top. Well, I'd just found number two.

I woke up with a hand shaking my shoulder, my head resting on something soft but firm. I opened my eyes. After a quick moment of deliberation, I came to the conclusion that what I was currently using as a pillow was, in fact, a human chest. Now, that in itself wasn't really cause for alarm, until I realized exactly whose chest I was laying on: Zoë Nightshade, lieutenant of the Hunt.

A warm flush crept onto my cheeks. I cautiously raised my head and met her eyes. She was observing me with a healthy amount of amusement, cocking an eyebrow. At the same time, we both seemed to become cognizant of the fact that one of her hands was buried in my hair. Zoë mirrored my flush and hastily withdrew her hand.

I scrambled to my feet and backed away to the opposite corner of the cell. As I did, I noticed two things: one, I didn't feel any pain, which was weird because I was ninety-nine percent sure I had just been tortured, and two, I was wearing Zoë's silver Hunter parka.

"Okay," I said with trepidation, holding my hands out in front of me, palms towards her, in a preemptive placating position. "I have no idea what happened earlier, but whatever it was, I apologize profusely."

Zoë's amused expression made a comeback, her eyebrow rising farther and farther towards her forehead like it was trying to join up with her hairline. "You don't remember?" she asked me curiously.

I swallowed. Oh, boy.

Then she laughed. The sound rang through the dreary cell like a chord from Apollo's lyre, and in my opinion, it was more beautiful. I found myself smiling involuntarily. It occurred to me that I'd never really heard her laugh like that. "Don't worry, Orion," Zoë said, smiling. "I was the one who initiated the contact. You were shivering like mad; I needed to make sure you didn't catch something. You were already too weak as it was."

I gestured to my outfit. "And the jacket?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Same thing. It's warm, and besides, you were bleeding."

I hesitated. "Bleeding?"

Her formerly mirthful expression sobered. "Truthfully," she began, "how much do you remember from before you fell asleep?"

I considered the question, combing through my mind to try and recall the memories, but there wasn't anything there. My brain felt foggy. I frowned. "Next to nothing," I admitted.

Zoë patted the stone next to her. I eyed her doubtfully. She rolled her eyes. "I won't bite, Orion." Praying to Artemis that the Hunter really wasn't angry with me, I made my way over to her cautiously, like a sheep about to be sheared. I took a seat on the black marble and mirrored her position, leaning back against the cold, stiff stone wall. Our shoulders were touching.

Contrary to my expectations, Zoë didn't pull away from the contact. Instead, she took a deep breath. "Krios brought you back maybe a few hours ago," she said. "At least I think it was. I do not know exactly how long it was; time is not very easy to measure down here, obviously. Your back…" She hesitated. "It was worse than what I saw when we rescued you from the forest." She pointed to my new silver outer layer. "That is partly why I gave you my jacket: without a bandage, I hoped it would protect your wounds. You were unconscious for a while, and shivering, so I…" A tinge of redness entered her cheeks. I recalled the position I woke up in and flushed as well. "You know. It seemed to help. You stopped trembling and eventually woke up. Only…" She faltered again, and I thought I saw a glint of hurt in her eyes. What had happened when I woke up?

Zoë shook her head. "Never mind. It's not important." Clearly, it was, but I could tell she didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't press the issue. I knew her well enough by now to know that if she didn't want to share information, I wasn't going to get it out of her. She continued, telling me about the appearance of the strange man – Marethyu – with the hook for a hand, and the conversation they'd had.

I made a _time-out_ gesture. "So let me get this straight," I said. "This guy shot me in the woods back in Kentucky or Pennsylvania or wherever, and now he shows up here wanting to help us? So he does, then he just leaves?"

"Basically," Zoë replied with a shrug. "I was skeptical at first, too, but he healed my rib, and your –" There was the hesitation again. "Well, you're better," she finished awkwardly. "Besides, whatever else he did, it worked. Watch this." She held out her hand, and her bow formed in her palm. "Try it."

I concentrated, and sure enough, my katana materialized in my hand with a shimmer of silver light. I grinned. "Well," I said cheerfully. "Krios wanted me to thank him for his hospitality? I think it's about time we arrange that."

The words had hardly left my mouth when I was hit by a sudden wave of fatigue. My katana vanished, and my knees buckled. Almost instinctively, it seemed, Zoë reached out and pulled me against her as I collapsed. I was too drained to even register what was happening. My head landed on her chest, my left ear at her heart, and I shivered. It wasn't from the cold.

"Did you not listen to what I said, you foolish boy?" she whispered gently, her tone taking the edge off her words. The way she said it almost made _you foolish boy_ sound like a term of endearment, something I never would have thought possible from a Hunter of Artemis. What was that about? "We cannot. Not yet. Marethyu's spell will help you recover your strength, but you need time. We take Krios the next time he brings you back here."

The implication of her words hit me like a freight train. "You mean I have to go back… _there_? Into that room?" My mind went into overdrive. I started to panic, frantically trying to scramble away from Zoë. She was going to send me back to him, she was going to betray me, she was going to…

"Orion!" I became aware that Zoë was calling my name, as loudly as she dared. "Orion, calm down! Orion, it's me, it's Zoë! You know I'll never hurt you!" I saw desperation in her gorgeous obsidian eyes, and I slowly began to come back to reality. She held me tightly as my terror started to abate. I buried my face in her chest, and I tried to take deep, calming breaths.

After a few minutes, I trusted myself enough to pull away. Zoë's arm stayed wrapped comfortingly around my shoulder. I decided not to comment on that. "Sorry for freaking out," I mumbled. "I don't know what came over me."

Zoë shook her head. "No," she said, sighing. "Do not apologize. I understand, perhaps even more than you do. But really, you should try listening to what I say sometimes." She gave me a soft smile, and I knew that even though she didn't mean it as an insult, she _did_ mean what she said. "I told you this already. Marethyu's spell will protect you from Krios. But we can't afford to make our move yet. You're too weak; you saw what just happened when you tried to summon your sword. Let Krios think he's hurting you. Let him think he's won. Bide your time, recover your energy, and then when he brings you back here, triumphant and arrogant…"

I finished for her. "That's when we strike."

Zoë nodded. "Exactly. Can you do that?"

Truth be told, I wasn't too keen on the idea of going back into Krios' little torture chamber, even with the protection of a powerful spell, but I knew it was the only choice. Zoë was right; at the moment, I was too weak to fight. Hopefully, after a few hours of 'rest' – which, of course, meant hanging on the wall in chains, pretending to be suffering – I'd have some of my strength back. According to Zoë, Marethyu's spell was supposed to expedite that process. I could only pray that was true. If not… well, things could get very messy, very fast.

I answered Zoë's inquiry with a nod. "I suppose. We don't really have a choice."

"No," she agreed. "We do not."

While we waited for the Titan to come retrieve me, my thoughts wandered to the Hunter's arm that was still draped across my shoulder. Something seemed different about her. As long as I'd known her – which admittedly wasn't all that long – she'd never struck me as a particularly "touchy-feely" person. Quite the opposite, in fact; physical contact always seemed to be a real no-no with her, unless it was in the form of punching, kicking, or any other similarly violent tendencies.

Almost everything about today contradicted that. When she'd wakened me, I'd been unknowingly resting on her chest – and she hadn't killed me in my sleep. Then, when I'd basically collapsed after summoning my sword, she'd pulled me back into that same position, and comforted me when I had my mini-meltdown. Even now, her arm remained behind me, cushioning my head from the cold black marble.

What had really happened while I was asleep? Don't get me wrong, it's not that I was complaining. I kind of liked new, affectionate Zoë. It made me feel cared-for, something that I hadn't gotten to experience very often in my life. But it still didn't make much sense. Even after we'd reconciled and formed our tentative friendship, she was still not a very… _expressive_ person, you could say. I had no idea what had brought this change over her, and as much as I was enjoying it, it made me a little uneasy.

Loud footsteps echoed down the silent corridor. Zoë quickly retracted her arm and brushed some of her dark brown hair out of her face. I shifted to lay face-down on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. At the last second, I remembered I was still wearing her jacket; in a rush, I stripped it off and tossed it at her.

She had just finished sliding her arms back into the sleeves when Krios arrived at the cell. My eyes were closed, but I heard his footsteps halt a few feet away. Next thing I knew, his hand closed around my midsection and hoisted me up into the air.

I vaguely heard Zoë protesting and insulting Krios, putting on a good show, but I stayed limp. The Titan simply chuckled and ignored her. He carried me all the way down the passageway to the hidden room at the end. To pass the time, I counted the number of steps he took as we went. _Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…_

Despite the knowledge that I was supposedly protected, I couldn't stop a shudder of trepidation from wracking through me. When I hit sixty-four, we reached the doorway in the stone. As we passed through, the air became stuffy and hot, rather than cold and dry. I imagined Krios intended it that way, in order to make his victims even more uncomfortable, even when they _weren't_ being tortured. Typical.

Once again, Krios took me over to the wall and locked my wrists and ankles into the chains. Normally, the frigid metal would bite into my skin and leave painful red marks, but gratefully, I felt nothing.

Krios "woke me up" by lashing the whip across my back. I jerked in anticipation of the sharp, stinging pain, but it never came. I felt the impact, of course, but it was like getting lightly slapped with a pool noodle. I would have laughed in relief, if it wouldn't have given the game away. Marethyu's magic was the real deal, apparently.

In addition to shielding me from the pain, he must have somehow hidden the fact that he'd healed my back, maybe with some kind of illusion, because Krios didn't give any indication that he thought I was faking. He just continued flogging me, occasionally regaling me with a casual, one-sided conversation.

"It's a shame Castellan needed the sarcophagus," he mused at one point. I hadn't really been paying attention to anything he was saying, but now I perked up a bit. Castellan… was that the kid I'd seen with the golden sarcophagus in my dream of the cruise ship? "Unfortunately, I can't take you as close to the edge as last time without the sarcophagus to revive you. The timing is… most inconvenient. But then, you can't have everything in life, even an immortal one, and sacrifices must be made in support of the cause. Even I can recognize that Lord Kronos' rise is far more important than satisfying my own personal desires."

My eyes widened, and my blood turned to ice. Kronos'… rise? They were trying to resurrect the Titan Lord? I saw the pieces of a giant puzzle swirling chaotically around my mind, but I could still only connect a few of them. I felt like I was on the verge of discovering something big, but whatever it was, it remained frustratingly on the fringes of my comprehension.

My heart dropped to my boots as realization hit me. The sarcophagus… of course! Krios had used it to bring me back to life each night after he tortured me. If it had the power to preserve and reignite _my_ life, could it even have the power to raise the Lord of Time from the depths of Tartarus? I knew my dreams had to be related to this somehow – after all, I'd seen the blond demigod with the golden sarcophagus – but I didn't know how the black-haired son of Poseidon I'd been seeing in my dreams was connected to what Krios was talking about.

Krios continued, oblivious to my reaction. "I know what your response has been in the past, Orion, but I hope you've come to realize now that fighting is pointless. Kronos _will_ return, and when he does, nothing and no one will be able to stand in the way of his vengeance against the Olympians. You don't need to be on the losing side, Orion. Join us; help the Titans return to power, and you will be honored beyond anything the gods have ever done for you." He paused, and I realized he was legitimately waiting for a response.

I gave him a rather convincing shuddering cough (if I do say so myself), as if I could barely breathe through the pain, and choked out three words. "Go… to hell."

For a moment, the Titan just stood there, regarding me silently. Then he sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that," said Krios. "But, of course, I had to try. You are nothing but a huge disappointment, son of Artemis. So much potential, yet you refuse to make use of it." He returned the majority of his attention to the whip. "You will suffer for your denial. I promise you that."

As much as I prided myself on my ability to ignore people (a very useful skill, I might add), Krios' words struck me at the heart of my self-esteem issues. _Nothing but a huge disappointment_ … there was always a nagging doubt, for me, that Artemis didn't actually think as highly of me as she'd appeared to; that instead of trying to help me, she'd sent me on this journey hoping I would fail and die. Well, fail, at least – I was already going to die no matter what, and she knew that.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't care. There's something about staring death in the face, knowing it's going to come in a few days, that tends to put things into perspective. I told myself that it really didn't matter what Artemis thought of me; in all likelihood, I was never going to see her again. The only people who mattered anymore were myself and Zoë; and as unlikely as it may have seemed two or three days ago, Zoë _did_ appreciate me. To her, I wasn't a disappointment. She was counting on me to be able to facilitate our escape from this place, and there was no way I was going to let her down. I may have gotten us captured, but gods damn it if I wasn't going to be the one to get us… uncaptured.

I remained suspended in the chains, enduring the soft noodle slap of Krios' whip, for an uncertain amount of time. Zoë was right; it really was nearly impossible to keep track of time down here. As the flogging proceeded, I felt myself becoming more and more alert, regaining more and more of my energy. As great as that felt, it was also sort of a problem, because I was supposed to be getting _weaker_ as the whipping went on, not stronger. It really pushed my acting skills to the limit, but fortunately, Krios bought it.

Eventually, though, the sensation ceased, and I slumped in the chains, feigning exhaustion. The Titan unclasped the cuffs on my wrists and ankles and once again lifted me by the torso, my arms pressed uncomfortably into my sides. I sensed the change in the air as we passed back through the stone doorway, the atmosphere becoming once again frigid and dry. I began counting.

 _One, two, three…_

I wondered idly if Zoë had a particular plan for busting out, or if she just intended to play it by ear, but I mentally shrugged. Whatever she did, I just had to make sure I was ready to go along with it.

 _Eighteen, nineteen, twenty…_

Each step down the corridor back to the cell sent tingles down my spine. I longed to summon my katana and take Krios out right then and there, but I forced myself to stay calm. _Not yet_.

 _Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four…_

The familiar thrill of an imminent fight rushed through me, filling me with anticipation. It intensified exponentially the closer we got to the cell.

 _Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine…_

I was practically buzzing with excitement now. It was taking all of my willpower to keep up my charade, but somehow I managed to do it.

 _Sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four_ –

Krios stopped. I decided to risk a peek and opened my eyes a fraction. They were a bit blurry from being closed so long, and it took a little while to adjust to the darkness of the environment, but when I did, I frowned in confusion. The cell was empty.

Krios growled. He waved his hand in front of the bars, and the familiar small entrance opened in the metal.

Instantly, an indistinct shape shot out of the cell towards Krios. I caught a streak of silver, and then something metal flashed in front of me, glinting in the dim green light of the Greek fire sconces. The Titan cried out in pain, and I felt his grip on me slacken. I reacted quickly, freeing my arms from his loosened grasp and summoning my sword. I slashed at his hand, and with another cry, Krios dropped me, golden _ichor_ streaming from the gash on his hand.

I rolled out of the six-foot drop to break my fall and immediately spun around to face Krios. He was stumbling backward down the hall, disoriented from Zoë's ferocious and unexpected assault. I leaped forward and joined her, grinning in savage pleasure.

Watching Zoë in combat was exhilarating. She was a phantom dancing around the corridor, striking swiftly and decisively at her foe, her two hunting knives nothing but blurs in her hands. She was the picture of grace and menace, each attack flowing smoothly into the next. Even with Krios' size and strength advantage, Zoë had the element of surprise, and the Titan had barely been able to draw his sword and try to fight back. When I entered the fray, we slowly began to overwhelm him. He was fighting one against two, and the two were battling with all the intensity and brutality of cornered animals. In a sense, I suppose, we really were.

Our chemistry was unmatched. In the forest, when we'd fought the _dracanae_ , it had been too chaotic for either of us to really take notice of the other. But now, it was impossible not to. We moved and struck as one being, building off each other's attacks, united by a common goal.

The black marble hallway glimmered with the reflection of a soft silver glow.

Finally, I landed a cut across Krios' calf at the same time Zoë drove one of her knives into his shoulder. The Titan howled and dropped to one knee, his injured leg crumpling beneath him, no longer able to support his weight. His Stygian iron sword clattered onto the stone, and I kicked it away.

Zoë and I stood side-by-side in front of our vanquished foe. As we stepped forward, I was unable to resist a parting jibe. "You said that last time, I left without thanking you for your hospitality," I said, and presented him with my trademark carefully crafted, arrogant smirk, one that he probably knew very well by now. "I thought I'd rectify that." With one final wink, I lunged forward and thrust my katana straight through his chest, piercing his heart. Krios stared at me hatefully as he disintegrated, the fire in his eyes never once relenting even as his body faded.

When there was nothing left of the Titan but a pile of golden dust, I turned to Zoë. I gestured towards the staircase at the near end of the corridor. "Ladies first," I said cheerfully. She rolled her eyes but acquiesced.

Surprisingly, we didn't encounter any monsters as we ascended the spiral stone stairway. I wasn't sure where they had all gone, or if there had even been any in the first place; when Krios first brought us in, the Laistrygonian giants that lugged us here were the only monsters I'd seen. Now, the place was eerily empty.

Zoë seemed similarly agitated, so we wasted no time in rushing down the entrance hall and dashing out of the front gate. The first thing I noticed was that it was nighttime and the moon was out. How long had we been in there? Was it a full twenty-four hours, or was it longer? I couldn't tell, but the answer was important. If had been more than a day, then that meant I probably only had a day or less to get from western Colorado to southern California, and find a cave somewhere down there. I didn't like our chances if that was true, but I couldn't dwell on it now.

We ran on and on, never looking back, until we were out of the mountains and back into the comforting embrace of the wild. I signaled for a short break, and we slowed to a stop. I leaned against a tree to briefly catch my breath.

"Can you tell… how long we… we were in there?" I asked Zoë between pants.

The Hunter glanced up at the darkened sky. "Not for certain," she replied. "But I do not think it was more than a day."

I breathed a sigh of relief. We still couldn't be sure, but if that was true, it meant that we had two days to get to the cave instead of only one. Those were much better chances.

"But we need to keep moving. We have a lot of ground to cover and only two more nights to cover it."

I nodded in agreement and took a deep breath to gather myself for the long sprint ahead of us. Then I looked at Zoë, gave her a thumbs-up, and we set off.

As usual, we traveled through the remainder of the night until the moon set and the first rays of the sun began to break through the horizon. We set up camp in a place Zoë called Dixie National Forest, in Utah… not that I had any earthly idea where that really was, but according to her, it was about halfway between where we'd been in Colorado and our goal in California.

"Oh, so I suppose you know where the cave is, then?" I grumbled to her when we stopped.

She looked surprised. "Do you not?" An eyebrow crept upwards in an expression I was beginning to find equal parts aggravating and endearing. "I thought you would have figured it out by now."

I fixed her with the most unamused glare I could muster. She was unaffected, and simply rolled her eyes. "What well-known wilderness areas are there in southern California? Perhaps if you would think about it, _really_ think about it, you might figure it out."

I volunteered for first watch. I thought Zoë was going to protest, but apparently she'd figured out by now that this was the kind of thing I wasn't going to budge on. I wanted time to think.

Usually, I preferred to climb a tree in order to get a secure vantage point while on watch, but all of the trees that grew around here were spruces and firs: not exactly trees that are particularly well-suited for climbing. Instead, I had to settle for finding a nice blue spruce tree on the edge of our encampment and sitting down next to it, reclining against the trunk. Once I was as comfortable as I was going to get, I scanned my eyes over the landscape and allowed my thoughts to wander.

First, I considered what Zoë had told me about where we were headed. Apparently, she had thought it should be obvious; she had said it was a "well-known wilderness area" in southern California. I frowned, trying to recall all the information Apollo had given me about our destination before we left. _The cave is in southern California_ , he'd said. _I think you'll appreciate the irony of its location when you learn it_.

Slowly, the pieces began to fit together: southern California, a famous landmark… that's when the answer finally occurred to me.

Death Valley. The cave was in freaking Death Valley.

So that's what Apollo meant about irony. I suppose it was fitting, really. Part of me wanted to groan, but another almost wanted to laugh. I ended up doing neither, opting instead to just stare blankly out at the rising sun.

I heard a _crack_ behind me as a dead branch snapped. My head whipped around, my bow forming in my hands with an arrow on the string. Then I saw it was only Zoë and I let out a sigh, my weapon dissipating with my panic.

"Don't _do_ that," I reprimanded her. "I could've shot you."

She trudged over to my spruce tree and sat down, propping herself up against another side of the trunk. I decided to let her off the hook and sat back down as well.

She didn't acknowledge my irritated comment, and the dawn lapsed back into silence. I really wanted to ask her my burning questions about what had happened while I was unconscious in Krios' cell, but I decided to ease into the conversation as casually as I could. "You should be sleeping," I pointed out.

Zoë scowled off into the darkness. "You are not my mother. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you."

"I know that," I said. "I'm just trying to watch out for you." Her irritated expression softened. "Zeus knows you've done more of that for me than I could ever repay. But we've still got a ways to go, and you need to be rested; we have no idea what we'll find when we get there."

"We both need to be rested," she corrected.

I remained quiet. My word choice had been deliberate.

After a moment, Zoë came to that conclusion. She frowned. "Orion," she said disapprovingly. "You need to sleep just as much as I do."

I sighed and shook my head. "Indulge me here, Zoë," I said. "At this point, I only have approximately forty-eight hours left to live… I'd rather not waste any of it sleeping."

At my words, the Hunter turned her head to regard me carefully. The morning was beginning to lighten even further, but despite that, I was having trouble making out Zoë's expression. When she spoke, her tone was guarded. "I suppose that makes sense."

We descended into silence once more, and this one was noticeably awkward. I decided it was time to bring up the topic I'd been waiting to address.

"Zoë…" I began. She faced me again, face still unreadable. "When we were in that cell…" I hesitated. I hadn't really worked out how to bring this up. "You mentioned something about some other… injury that Marethyu healed, but you never said exactly what it was."

Her face darkened. When she spoke, I was surprised to hear her voice held a slight tremor. "Orion, I do not know if you wish me to speak of it."

"I'm the one who got injured," I protested. "And I don't even know what happened to me! I think I have a right to know."

"Have you considered the fact that not being able to remember might be a good thing?"

I stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

She met my eyes, and she must have read my determination in them, because she sighed and dropped her head into her hands. When she next began talking, her voice was tired and muffled; I had to strain to make it out.

"I already told you this, but when Krios first brought you back to the cell, your back was even worse than it had been when the Hunters found you in the woods." A shudder wracked through her. "It was unlike anything I've ever seen. Your skin was not even visible beneath the blood." She took a breath, apparently to steady herself, and I had to restrain myself from making a comment on it. I'd never seen Zoë this shaken before.

"You remember when I said that you woke up briefly after I warmed you up?" she continued. I did remember; I nodded. "Well, when you woke up… you didn't know who I was." Her voice broke at the end.

Her words left me reeling. What did she mean I didn't know who she was? How could I have ever forgotten her? And did she really care that much about me that it would affect her like this? Apparently so. For some reason, that thought filled me with warmth. But I was sensed Zoë wasn't done recounting yet.

I was right.

After a few more steadying breaths, she persevered. "You could barely even remember who you were," she told me. "Krios' torture had driven you almost completely insane."

Suddenly the rising desert sun, which before had bathed the surrounding wilderness in the soft yellow glow of dawn, now seemed to become harsh and hateful.

"You were rambling and confused," Zoë went on. "Before Marethyu came – even after he came, in fact – I was afraid the damage may have been permanent. You were completely delirious, as if you were in your own world. It was… difficult to watch."

"I can imagine," I muttered.

Zoë turned away to stare vacantly out at the sunrise. "No," she replied quietly. "You cannot."

As awful as that sounded, I was getting the feeling that there was more to the story than that. I wasn't completely convinced that Zoë, who had such a resolute and resilient spirit, would be bothered so much just by my delirious ramblings. More likely, I had said or done something specific while I was delirious that had caused this kind of reaction from her.

I decided to try the direct approach. "Was that all that happened?" I asked.

A conflicted expression crossed the Hunter's face before she could hide it, and I knew I was right. There was something else. But she nodded; clearly she wasn't going to share. "Yes, that was all," she said softly. I nodded as well and let the matter drop.

A few more minutes passed. The sun climbed higher as morning fully broke. Eventually, Zoë stood. "Since you are so adamant about it, I suppose I might as well get some sleep," she informed me.

"Glad to hear you've come around," I joked. "I'll wake you at nightfall."

True to my word, once the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, I finally got up from my tree and made my way over to the silver Hunter tent Zoë had set up earlier. I wondered if I should announce my presence or something, but then I realized that she was asleep and the whole purpose of my being there was to wake her up. I shrugged and brushed aside the entrance flap.

The inside of the tent was sparse, consisting of nothing more than a simple fire pit and a low cot. Zoë lay on the bed on top of the sheets, still in her full Hunter outfit (thank the gods). I approached the bed slowly.

When I was a step away from the cot, gazing down at Zoë's sleeping form, a hint of apprehension began to brew in my gut. Obviously, I knew her aggressive tendencies as well as the next guy, and I was starting to get a little worried that she might not take to well to being woken up by a male. Then again, I had told her I was going to do it, and she had agreed, so I figured I'd probably be fine.

Oh, how wrong I was.

The instant my right hand made contact with Zoë's shoulder, the Hunter's eyes shot open. Before I could so much as blink, I found myself on the ground with Zoë on top of me, the blade of a familiar silver hunting knife at my throat.

I coughed, the impact with the ground having slightly knocked the wind out of me. I raised an eyebrow. "Do you mind?" I asked casually.

Zoë's volcanic black eyes focused on my face as she realized who she was currently threatening. She slowly removed the knife from my throat and returned it to its sheath at her right hip. Then she noticed the position we were still in, and cleared her throat awkwardly. "Err, sorry," she mumbled, and hurriedly rolled off of me.

I rubbed my chest, which was now a bit sore from bearing Zoë's weight. "S'okay," I said. I coughed again. "Nice reflexes, though."

She shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, if you're done trying to kill me, it might interest you to know the sun has set," I continued, sarcasm dripping from my words. "So we should probably get going. We still have a lot of ground to cover."

She nodded and extended a hand to help me up; I pretended not to see it. Instead, I rolled over onto my stomach, then up onto one knee, before rising to my feet on my own. Zoë scoffed and rolled her eyes at my antics, but I didn't care. That was pretty much what I'd been going for, honestly. Just a bit of petty payback for her rude response to my awakening her.

We both exited the tent. Zoë collapsed it into the small handkerchief-sized pocket of silver cloth that it traveled as, which she tucked away. I picked up my pack, which I'd fortunately recovered from Krios' palace, and slung it over my shoulder. I hadn't brought anything else along. We were ready to go.

I thanked all the gods that the rest of our trip was uneventful. It was still long, but I had a lot on my mind to think about, which helped pass the miles quickly.

Chief among those subjects was, of course, my traveling companion, Zoë Nightshade. At the moment, I just couldn't stop thinking about her. Ever since our talk at the base of the spruce tree in Utah, she'd been quiet and subdued, which were two adjectives that I would never normally use to describe her, and that worried me. She seemed to be doing just as much – if not more – thinking as I was, though about what, I had no idea.

On our second night of travel, the endless miles of desert cliffs and plains gave way to the landscape I'd been simultaneously longing and dreading to see: enormous, rust-colored ranges of mountains and valleys, all sculpted from the same sunset-orange sandstone.

We had finally reached Death Valley.

And somewhere in that expanse of ridges, there was a hidden cave that held my last gift from the father I would never know.

I hadn't told Zoë the real reason I didn't want to sleep: I couldn't. Scorpius' poison was affecting me worse than ever before, stiffening my limbs and fueling a persistent burning sensation in my gut. I knew I didn't have long now to live; most likely only an hour, maybe a bit more if I was lucky.

But I couldn't dwell on that too much right now. I had one last thing to do, one last quest to complete, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to do just that. I was going to find that cave if it was the last thing I did – which, of course, it probably would be.

Standing side-by-side at the edge of Death Valley, Zoë and I gazed out across the vast mountainous desert. _I'm coming, Dad_ , I thought. _I won't let you down._


	8. Chapter 8: Life and Death

**Hey, everyone. I've returned, with my longest chapter since Chapter 3!  
**

 **So, I know that I said when I was first starting this story that I was going to adhere to regular updates, every three days if I could. Sadly, that was back when I was at school, where I had a defined schedule with clear windows of free time that I could dedicate to working on the story. Now that it's summer and I'm back home, stuff that I need to do just kind of pops up randomly, and I don't really have set periods where I can work on _Craters_ ; I just kind of write whenever I find myself free.**

 **That being said, I do still want to continue regular updates. You guys deserve the rest of this story, and it's a very important personal goal of mine to get this finished. As it happens, the rest of May is going to afford me lots of time to write. This weekend, I have a five-hour car ride to and from a hockey tournament that I can use to work on the fic, then next week I'll be sitting at home recovering from getting my wisdom teeth out, which means more free time to write. Then finally the weekend after that, I'll be going with my family to our river house for Memorial Day, where I can once again have free time to work on the story.**

 **My current plan right now is to try to stick to updating once a week. Hopefully, that should be pretty easy to maintain.**

 **Anyways, please favorite/follow and review as always, I love getting feedback from everyone, and I hope you all enjoy the final chapter of part 1!**

* * *

Chapter 8: Life and Death

It took us longer than I would have preferred to find the cave.

For a while, we wandered aimlessly through the ridges of Death Valley, trying vainly to spot anything that might resemble a cave. As I'm sure you can imagine, it didn't take long for me to grow frustrated with this process.

Eventually, I wracked my brain to try and think of something that might give us a lead. I didn't have much to go on from Apollo, but something else occurred to me: technically, I had been here before. I tried to recall what the surroundings had looked like when we'd relived my father's memories. Surprisingly, that ended up helping more than I had originally expected, and shortly thereafter, we located the cave embedded into the side of a mountain overlooking the well-known Racetrack Playa.

Of course, once we found the cave, we still faced one more problem: how to actually get up to it. The entrance was a couple hundred feet up on the side of the cliff, which presented an interesting dilemma.

Zoë didn't seem to agree with me on that. "So we have to climb some rocks," she told me simply, shrugging. "Neither of us are strangers to the wild; I do not see what the problem is."

When I thought about it, I supposed she did have a point. The thing was, as much time as I'd spent in the wilderness in my life, climbing a mountain was one thing I hadn't ever done. Add to that the fact that my muscles were getting more sore by the minute, thanks to Scorpius' poison, and you can probably understand my concern.

I was still pondering the problem when Zoë tapped me on the shoulder. "Orion," she said, and I turned. She pointed up at the cliff face. "Look."

I frowned, my eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. Engraved into the side of the mountain was what appeared to be a set of stone steps – something that I could have sworn wasn't there when we first arrived.

I wasn't about to complain, though. I started walking towards the point where the steps seemed to meet the ground. "Let's go."

Upon closer examination, what had appeared from a distance to be steps was actually a set of indentations in the stone that gradually led up to the cave entrance. In effect, it served the same purpose as stairs, they just weren't quite as defined as we'd originally believed.

As we climbed (or walked, depending on how you looked at it), Zoë trailed silently behind me. I glanced back at her occasionally, and every time I did, her mood seemed to be worse. I wondered if it was finally starting to hit her exactly what was going to happen at the end of tonight. Zeus knows it was starting to hit _me,_ but I was doing everything in my power to ignore my impending fate. I couldn't allow myself to think about it yet… not until I'd gotten up to that cave and found whatever it was my father had left for me.

Once again, it took far longer than I thought ideal for us to climb up to the cave entrance. I could almost feel the minutes of my life ticking by at this point, but the most frustrating thing was that my body could no longer keep up with the increased pace I was trying to force it into. By the time we stood inside the opening of the cave, I was having to lean on Zoë's arm for support. I gritted my teeth – not in pain, but because I was infuriated by my weakness.

When I'd gathered myself, I stood up as straight as I could and scanned the cave in front of me.

It looked exactly as it had fifteen years ago in Orion's memories. The cave extended back about sixty feet. A shallow depression was dug into the center of the stone floor, empty but for the remains of long-rotted logs. On the far side of the fire pit, near the end wall, a bearskin pelt was spread over the rock in a makeshift bed, covered by a thin wool blanket. The only other feature in the room was something I didn't recognize from my father's memories.

At the foot of the bed sat a small silver chest the size of a cubic foot, with a black clasp fastening it shut on the front. The box, though presumably having sat here in this cave for at least fifteen years, was unblemished and shiny, as if it had just been polished a few hours ago. A large black "O" was engraved on the top.

I rubbed my suddenly sweaty palms together. This was it. I'd done it. Whatever my father had wanted me to have was sitting right there in that chest, only fifty feet in front of me.

"Is that it?" Zoë asked quietly.

My throat was dry; I didn't trust myself to speak, so I just nodded.

With Zoë's help, I began walking towards the mystery chest, skirting around the fire pit. When we got to the bed, I carefully lowered myself down onto it. Then I reached over and picked up the silver chest, settling it on my lap.

Zoë turned around and started heading back to the cave entrance. "Where are you going?" I called out, and my voice was only slightly less hoarse than I was afraid it would be.

She glanced back at me. "I thought you might want some privacy while you go through that," she said, gesturing towards the chest. "I will be just outside, on the steps."

I nodded. "Alright." I paused. "Thank you, Zoë. For everything."

She smiled sadly at me. "You are most welcome, Orion." I thought I might have caught the glimmer of something shiny in her eye, but then she stepped down from the cave entrance and out of my sight.

I sighed. "Well, it's now or never, I guess," I muttered to myself. With bated breath, I popped open the black clasp with my thumb and lifted the lid of the chest.

I'm not sure exactly what I'd been expecting, but it was definitely not sheets of paper. At first, I frowned, but after a cursory glance, I realized what I was looking at, and my eyes widened. My hands shaking slightly, I reached down into the chest and pulled out the letter – because that's what it was, of course: a letter from my father.

My dyslexia made it difficult (I didn't have much experience reading long passages), but slowly, I began to read.

 _My son,_

 _I cannot begin to express how sorry I am that I will never be able to speak those words to you face-to-face, as a father should. But it is my own fault. I was blinded by my hate and anger, and now I bear my punishment._

 _Of course, that is not the only thing I must apologize for. If you are reading this, then that can only mean that Apollo has fulfilled his oath and showed you my memories, and you have arrived at my cave with complete knowledge of your fate – and your background._

 _I was a fool, and in my foolishness, I made an unforgivable mistake. I inflicted my same punishment on an innocent boy. For that, no apology will ever be enough; not to you, nor Artemis, nor Apollo, nor even Ms. Nightshade. But I am truly sorry, and I have done everything in my power to atone for my evil. This letter is my attempt to ensure my mistake does not lead to anyone else's death – even yours._

 _Before I begin, I want you to know one thing, Orion: I am proud of you._

 _I know that may not mean much to you; after all, in your time, I am dead. How could I know anything about your life? The truth is, I have seen the man you have become – or perhaps I should say, the man you_ will _become. I was offered a glimpse into your future, and I can say with complete honesty and sincerity that I could not be more proud of you._

 _But now, unfortunately, we must venture into more serious topics._

 _Only moments ago, a man came to visit me while I lay dying. He wore a hooded black robe, his face obscured by its cowl but for two striking blue eyes, and a strange metal hook took the place of his right hand. He identified himself only as Marethyu. Perhaps you know of him, perhaps not._

 _Regardless, Marethyu came to me and used his magic to preserve my life for a little longer; he told me he needed my help, that I had a job to do. Then he touched his hook to my forehead, and I saw wonders._

 _He will not allow me to tell you exactly what I saw, for it was, of course, the future – your future. Informing you directly of the future could have disastrous repercussions. However, he does want me to impart to you certain pieces of advice._

 _The first is this, which may come as quite a shock in itself: you_ have _a future, my son._

 _You may scoff at me for saying that, but it is true. Even know, as you read this letter, counting down the last minutes of your life, your mother rushes to the cave to save you. How is that possible? you may ask. Because it must be._

 _The second is this: protect Zoë Nightshade._

 _I have seen your burgeoning friendship with her, as unlikely as its genesis may have been, but I have also realized that which even you likely have not come to recognize._

 _She loves you, Orion. Oh, she may not know it yet, or she may not wish to admit it, but that does not make it any less true. She loves you, and I know that you care deeply for her as well. Do not let her be torn away from you. The two of you must play an integral role in the war that is quickly approaching._

 _Third and finally: remember the Altruist's Oath._

 _I cannot say more than that. When the time comes, you will know._

 _Marethyu has signaled me from the cave entrance; I fear this is the end of our time together, my son. If it were possible, I would spend a lifetime with you, getting to know the boy who is my offspring. But sadly, I do not have that luxury. Very shortly, when Marethyu removes his spell, I will pray to summon Apollo and entrust him with his task. Soon after, I will fade, never to exist in any form again._

 _I have only one regret, and that is you, my son._

 _Do not misunderstand me; I do not regret your creation, nor your existence – only the circumstances in which they occurred. I regret what I put you through, and that I nearly killed you. I regret that I will never watch you grow up; the only chance I have to get to know you was through a short glimpse into the future. You will always be my biggest "what if," but no matter what, I am proud of you._

 _The constellation that bears my name may be made of stars, but you will outshine anything I could have ever been. You will restore honor to the name of Orion._

 _I love you,_

 _Your father, Orion_

The letter dropped from my suddenly loosened grip, fluttering down to land on the bearskin pelt on which I sat.

I wondered why my vision was blurring, until I felt the first tear carve its track down my cheek.

I barely even registered it. My mind was swirling with so many questions, it felt like my head was going to explode. I wasn't sure if my father had meant for his letter to be enlightening and encouraging, but whether he did or not, reading it just left me more confused than I could ever remember feeling. I tried to sort through the information in an orderly manner, but I couldn't even begin to imagine where to start.

Marethyu had visited my father in his death throes to help him write this letter? Why? Why did he need my father to tell me about my future? How was I even supposed to _have_ a future? He said Artemis was coming to save me, but hadn't she already tried? How was she supposed to succeed now? What in Zeus' name was the Altruist's Oath he mentioned, and why did I need to know about it?

But there was one in particular that my mind just kept circling back to: Zoë loves me?

It was almost impossible to believe; in fact, it took a concerted effort not to just dismiss it out of hand. I mean, Zoë was always so aloof, so cool and dignified. She was the kind of person who commanded your respect, someone who almost seemed incapable of feeling any significant affection. Besides, she was a Hunter; she had sworn off men, and she despised them anyway. But my father seemed fairly sure of his assertion, so I took a moment to consider it.

I tried to flash back through the time I'd spent in her company. When we'd first met, she'd certainly been… abrasive, to put it bluntly. She'd been cold and callous towards me, simply because I was male (it might have also had something to do with my personality, but I doubt it. Who could ever have a complaint about my personality?). Once she'd found out I was Artemis' son, her attitude towards me became only slightly more polite.

But then we'd traveled together, and fought together, and I'd risked my life to save hers. We'd gotten captured by Krios, and worked together to escape. I thought back to our interaction in the cell. I definitely couldn't deny that I'd seen a side of her I had never imagined could possibly exist. Not only had she hugged me and comforted me while I had a small panic-induced meltdown, she'd let me sleep basically in her lap – without castrating me.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized my father could be right. There was a very real chance that Zoë _had_ actually developed feelings for me beyond simple friendship – and, impossibly, I had developed affection for her in return.

You know that rare "eureka!" moment that people describe having sometimes that alters their entire worldview? What's the word for it again? Ah, yes.

An epiphany.

That was the effect that discovering the truth of my father's words had on me. As sad as it sounds, I had never had anyone who loved me in my life – like, _really_ loved me. Yes, Apollo watched over me for years, and I was sure Artemis cared about my wellbeing as well, but at best, that was just familial love. They were essentially obligated to love me.

The idea that someone could love me purely of their own choice was completely foreign to me. Learning that Zoë probably did – and that I returned her feelings – created a whole new world of thoughts and possibilities for me.

But of course, like everything else in my life, the high I'd gotten from my realization couldn't last.

In the middle of my last thought, searing pain suddenly streaked through my abdomen. I cried out, which turned out to be the wrong thing to do as the action robbed me of my breath. I collapsed onto the bearskin bed, clutching my midsection and trying desperately to force air into my lungs.

It was unlike any of my previous episodes, surpassing even the agony I'd experienced the day I'd collapsed in the woods near Apollo's cabin. The burning sensation spread through my body as if my veins had spontaneously ignited. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I tried to cling to the last vestiges of my consciousness, but I was fading fast.

As the pain intensified and my vision dimmed, I couldn't help but think: _Is this finally the end?_

* * *

In all her thousands of years of life, Zoë could never remember feeling so conflicted.

She had never expected that seeing Orion's rapid deterioration would affect her as greatly as it did. Yet somehow, the sarcastic, laid-back, and sometimes arrogant demigod had wormed his way into her previously walled-off heart… and now she was remembering what it was like to experience the twin emotions of love and pain.

Yes: love. She couldn't deny it any longer. As she stood outside the cave, waiting patiently while Orion received his father's last gift, Zoë realized that she had impossibly and irrevocably fallen in love with the black-haired son of Artemis.

Perhaps finally admitting it to herself should have given her a sense of joy or accomplishment, but all she could feel was emptiness.

Because in less than a few hours, Orion would be gone – forever.

It was almost a struggle to wrap her mind around. As an immortal, she was no stranger to the concept of outliving other people, and it had never bothered her before. But this was different… Orion was different.

He was the first male (and indeed the first person outside of the Hunters) in two millennia that she had come to care deeply about. The more she contemplated his passing, the more she realized exactly how stupid she'd been in falling for him. But it was too late now. She couldn't change her feelings, even if she wanted to – and she wasn't even sure she wanted to.

After all, wasn't it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

Zoë was jolted out of her depressing musings by a strangled cry that echoed from the interior of the cave behind her. She leapt up from her cross-legged sitting position and sprinted the short distance up the stone steps to the cave entrance, a knot of worry forming in her gut.

The sight that greeted her justified her anxiety.

Orion lay sprawled on the bearskin bed, his hands wrapped around his abdomen. He was sweating profusely, drenching his forehead and filling the cave with the stench of human body odor. As much as it usually bothered her, Zoë barely even wrinkled her nose; she had more important things to worry about right now. Namely, the fact that even as she watched, Orion's eyelids fell shut as he slipped into unconsciousness.

At least, she hoped it was unconsciousness.

The realization that now – _right now_ – was the beginning of Orion's last minutes of life nearly made Zoë freeze in her tracks. It was all too overwhelming. Fortunately, thousands of years of experience as a Hunter set her on autopilot, helping her body overcome the shock her mind could barely process.

She rushed across the cave and knelt beside him, placing two fingers on the side of his neck to search for a pulse. To her immense relief, she found one; he was only unconscious, though for how long, she didn't know.

Zoë quickly rifled through Orion's pack, hoping for first-aid materials. She located them easily enough and pulled them out, but once she held them in her hands, she stopped. _What was the point?_ she asked herself. Orion's malady wasn't something that she could solve with some nectar and a band-aid. It likely couldn't even be solved at all.

With a grunt of frustration, she collapsed into a sitting position on the bear pelt next to Orion, the first-aid kit falling limply from her hands. Her head dropped into her hands, and she had to stifle a sob. Zoë felt so useless, so helpless, as she could do nothing more than watch as the boy – no, the _man_ – she'd come to love faded away beside her.

She hated it, the whole situation. She hated that Orion was dying. She hated that she was powerless to do anything about it. But most of all, she hated that she cared; she hated that one male had broken through all her barriers and made her fall in love with him, as ridiculous and unfair as she knew that was.

In the midst of her own misery, she failed to notice the two consecutive flashes of light that lit up the cave until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She raised her head, startled.

Artemis and Apollo stood before her. The sun god had foregone his preferred red tracksuit (perhaps recognizing for once that the gravity of the situation called for something a little less casual) in favor of a golden-brown long-sleeve polo shirt and black dress pants with black loafers. Artemis, as always, wore the silver jacket, leggings, and black combat boots that made up the Hunters' outfit. Both twins wore matching grim expressions.

It was, of course, Artemis who had laid her hand on Zoë's shoulder (even Apollo wasn't _that_ stupid). Now, she withdrew it and looked into her lieutenant's eyes. "Thank you, Zoë," she said quietly. "You brought him here safely."

"Of course," Zoë responded bitterly. "But for what? So he can die and join his father?"

"No." Artemis turned her gaze to the unconscious form of her son. She knelt down and stroked Orion's cheek with the back of her hand. "So I can ensure he survives," she whispered.

Zoë nearly bolted upright in shock. "What?!" she exclaimed. "I thought you said his death was inevitable!"

Apollo chose that moment to enter into the conversation. "It is not, but it soon will be, unless we hurry," he said. "Look, he's fading fast."

It was true. In the short time since he had fallen unconscious, Orion's face had paled considerably, and his breathing was beginning to slow.

"Yes," Artemis said. "Are you sure this will work, brother?"

"As sure as I can be," her twin replied. "I received information from" – he hesitated, looking slightly uneasy – "a reliable source that it will. I trust his word. He has never deceived me before." He stepped forward and placed his hand on his sister's shoulder. Their auras briefly flared, illuminating him in a soft golden glow and her in silver. "Remember what you have to do. It is vital that you harness all the scattered fragments of his father's tainted essence and confine them to a single area. Then you have to use your own essence as a cushion. Merge it with the piece of your essence that Orion carries and use it as a blanket to smother the part of his father's life force within him. It will be painful. Scorpius' poison will try to consume your essence. You have to fight back. If it works, the poison will have nothing to feed on except his father's tainted essence, which should cause it to devour itself."

His entire speech was utter nonsense to Zoë, but Artemis nodded like she understood. "Very well." She gestured to Apollo and Zoë. "I might advise standing back, just in case. I have no idea what may occur when the process begins. To my knowledge, nothing like this has ever been attempted."

Zoë didn't need to be told twice. She quickly moved to the opposite side of the cave, Apollo joining her after one final reassuring squeeze of his sister's shoulder. They both watched Artemis with tangible apprehension.

Taking a deep breath, the moon goddess placed her hand on the center of Orion's chest and closed her eyes. A silver glow began to emanate from underneath her palm, bathing his torso in its warm light.

The reaction was slow but noticeable. Orion began to squirm and twitch, as if Artemis was administering small electric shocks. The tremors gradually increased in intensity, until he was outright writhing and crying out in pain.

Zoë couldn't ever remember seeing her goddess struggling so much, and it worried her. The strain was clearly wearing on Artemis, causing a sheen of sweat to break out across her forehead. Had Zoë ever seen a deity sweat before? She didn't even know it was possible.

The time dragged on. Her traitorous mind began conjuring up a host of worst-case scenarios. What if Artemis failed and Orion died? Had Zoë finally accepted the fact that he had thawed her heart, only to have it frozen once more? She didn't know if she'd be able to recover from losing a love a second time, the way she had after… _he_ betrayed her.

As soon as she thought that, Zoë felt disgusted with herself. Since when did she let a _male_ affect her so much? It wasn't as if she couldn't live without him. The pain of loss would fade with time, and she had nothing but time.

And yet… facing the daunting possibility of living an eternity alone but for the company of Artemis and the Hunters, Zoë couldn't help but be reminded that immortality was as much a curse as it was a blessing. Despite the short amount of time they'd spent together, she already couldn't imagine life without Orion. He had opened her eyes to the fact that not all males were selfish pigs, and that perhaps, some of them were even worth her trust and affection. He had helped her experience life in a way that she never had before.

Maybe it was time to start asking tough questions. Questions like: did she really want to continue living the way she was when her existence was so…empty? She didn't yet have an answer.

Suddenly, the silver glow surrounding Artemis' hand and Orion's chest became too bright to observe. Apollo and Zoë averted their eyes and shut them as the light continued to grow, blinding them through their eyelids.

Then, abruptly, it diminished.

Zoë was the first to open her eyes. Artemis was hunched over her son, her head resting on his chest. Her eyes were closed.

Apollo sprinted over to her so quickly Zoë almost thought he had teleported. He checked his twin for a pulse, then when he apparently found one, he gently shook her shoulder. "Come on, sis," he muttered. "Wake up."

Artemis' eyes shot open immediately. She picked herself up from Orion's chest and gazed longingly at her son's face. "Did it work?" she asked Apollo, her voice hoarse. Zoë awaited the answer with bated breath.

He shook his head, and her heart plummeted. But then he said, "I don't know yet. We'll just have to wait and s–"

With a deep, shuddering breath, Orion's eyes slowly fluttered open.

* * *

My dreams were… disturbing, to say the least (though I supposed if I was dreaming, it at least meant that I still had some form of consciousness, which meant I was still alive).

I was floating over a large silver lake that filled up my entire field of view, interspersed with tendrils of black liquid, like oil. Beneath me, the black liquid began to flow together, coalescing in the center of the lake. As it did, the pain I'd felt before I blacked out returned all at once, as if I was being burned alive from the inside out.

I gasped out at the sudden rush of agony and doubled over. The oil-like substance flowed faster and faster, spiraling towards the center of the silver lake and forming into an enormous black blob the size of the Epcot dome. As the spherical blob grew bigger, the pain continued to intensify until it reached a level I could hardly believe possible. I didn't know if it was possible to black out in a dream, but I felt like I was about to.

When it looked like every last coil of the mysterious black liquid had been drawn from the lake and incorporated into the central mass, something strange began happening. I couldn't be sure at first, but it looked like it was shrinking.

After a minute of observation, I realized it _was_ shrinking. The blob was being compressed, and it didn't look too happy about it. It was bubbling and deforming under the pressure, like a ball of white-hot magma.

Slowly, the blob shrunk to the size of a small house, then a toolshed, then a beach ball. Finally, with a soft _thump_ , it collapsed in on itself.

The effect was instantaneous. A shock wave expanded outwards from the point of the implosion, speeding towards me. I didn't expect it to have any effect, since it was a dream, but to my surprise, it did.

When it made contact with me, the shock wave spun me into a back flip and seemed to dispel whatever force was allowing me to float. I started to plunge down towards the silver lake.

Maybe it was because of my dream-state, but I didn't experience any hint of panic as I plummeted towards the strange liquid below. In fact, I was almost… calm, at peace. The pain had faded, and I felt, ironically, more alive than ever before.

The distance down to the lake turned out to be much greater than I had originally assumed, and it took me several minutes to complete the fall. Right as I hit the water, everything faded to white.

Then I realized I was awake, which was a surprise in itself.

I cautiously opened my eyes, blinking blearily. The first image I was met with was the concerned face of a familiar twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and silver eyes. "Mother?" I breathed.

Artemis broke into a hesitant but relieved smile. "Orion," she said. "Welcome back." She turned to Apollo. "You were actually right about something for once, brother." He smiled. "But don't think this means I'm going to make a habit of listening to your advice." Apollo just shrugged.

My mother turned her attention back to me. "How do you feel?" she asked me.

I considered the question, mentally checking through all of my facilities. Astonishingly, I discovered that everything seemed to be in order – and there wasn't any pain. The continual ache and soreness I'd dealt with over the past week from Scorpius' poison was completely gone. Relief flooded through me. Could it be…? "I feel great," I answered truthfully. Artemis stood and extended a hand to me, helping me to rise. "Better than great, actually. What happened?"

Apollo fielded my question. "We found a way to save you," he said, grinning. "Well, it was mostly me."

Artemis frowned. "And yet, it was me who performed the task." The sun god waved his hand at her dismissively.

"But if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have even known what to do."

Ignoring the siblings' usual bickering, I tried to process their words. "So does that mean… I'm healed?" I asked hesitantly. "Scorpius' poison is gone for good? I'm actually going to live?"

Neither of the twins heard my inquiry, but someone else did. Hitherto unnoticed, Zoë stepped forward and nodded. "Yes, Orion," the Hunter confirmed. "The poison is gone."

I turned and assessed her quietly. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but I was worried how she'd react – and, more importantly, how my mother would react – so I made an effort to restrain my emotions from showing on my face. Strangely, it seemed like she was doing the same, her expression kept carefully blank. _Was that a sign that she felt the same way?_ I wondered, then shook my head. I doubted that was the case.

At Zoë's words, Artemis and Apollo fell silent, turning to observe our interaction.

I hardly noticed. The lieutenant of the Hunt approached me, and the world narrowed down to just the two of us. As my eyes peered into her volcanic black irises and traced the flow of her chocolate-brown hair (which for once she had let down from its ponytail), it didn't take me long to recognize that I really had come to love her.

As enlightening as my acceptance of that fact was, I knew I would never be able to act on it. Not only was there approximately a negative-one percent chance that Zoë reciprocated my feelings, she was also a Hunter; and my mother would never approve of something like this, especially not from her own son.

Trying not to let my hopelessness show, I met her gaze evenly. She stopped a foot in front of me, then, to my surprise, she closed the gap between us and enveloped me in a hug. At first, I was too shocked to return it. Shortly, though, I recovered and wrapped my arms around her as well.

"I was worried about you," she murmured in my ear. "I was sure you were going to die."

"You were worried… about _me_?" I whispered back, my disbelief evident. "The aloof lieutenant of the Hunt who despises males was afraid that a male was going to die?"

"Yes, you idiot," she said, giving a soft, nervous laugh. "You're still my friend, Orion. And actually…" She hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder at Artemis. "We should talk… later."

My heart leaped. I mean, jumping to conclusions usually doesn't turn out well, but I couldn't help it. "Okay," I agreed.

We pulled apart, shifting awkwardly. "So," I ventured. "Um, what now?"

"Now," Artemis spoke, the godly twins making their way over to us. "You must decide what you wish to do, Orion." I raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue. "A demigod living alone is a dangerous prospect, so as I see it, there are two possible courses for you to take." She held up one finger. "Option one: I am willing to offer you a spot in the Hunters. Though the only prior instance of a male joining the Hunters didn't end quite so well, you have proven yourself more than capable and deserving of our respect. The girls may not take to you instantly, but I am sure that after a time, they will come to see you as I have."

I made a face; no, thank you. Artemis noticed, and continued on, raising a second finger.

"Or option two: there is a safe haven for demigods called Camp Half-Blood in eastern New York, on the far side of the country. The Hunters and I can travel with you to the Camp before we begin our next hunt, if you so wish. The people there will be kind to you; they can help you train, and you would be protected from monsters."

Now that sounded a little more promising. "Camp Half-Blood, eh?" I pondered, then shrugged. "I suppose it's worth a shot. When do we leave?"

Artemis smiled. "Right now. I directed the Hunters to wait on the fringes of the Valley. We can begin traveling east as soon as we reach them."

I nodded. "Well, alright then." I turned to Apollo, who had grown an uncharacteristically solemn look on his face. I held out my hand. "I suppose this is goodbye for now, uncle."

He took my hand, then used it to pull me fully into a hug. I patted him soothingly on the back, surprised but slightly amused to hear him sniffling. "Thank you, Apollo," I said. "For everything."

He pulled away and gave me a sad smile, trying to discreetly wipe his eye. "No problem, kiddo," he replied. "Anytime you need me, you just call, okay?"

I mock-saluted him. "You got it, sir."

He gave me one last smile and wink, then his body began to glow. Zoë and I turned away as he revealed his true immortal form and vanished in a flash of light.

When he was gone, Artemis sighed. "I will never admit to saying this, but I am grateful to him," she said. "He does not lie when he says he told me how to save you, Orion. Without him, I would never have been able to do it."

I gave her a reassuring smile. "You know, it _is_ okay to show that you care for him every now and then," I pointed out. "As much as you two bicker, I know you really do love each other."

"It's not as if I have a choice in the matter," she grumbled. "He's my twin."

I grinned. "Whatever helps you sleep better at night."

Artemis mumbled a few words I didn't quite catch – probably something along the lines of "gods do not sleep" – and started walking towards the cave entrance. She turned back to Zoë and I, gesturing out to the valley spread before us, a full moon high in the night sky. "Shall we? I would prefer not to spend any more time in this place than is absolutely necessary."

I had to admit I agreed wholeheartedly, so we strode out to meet the moon goddess at the mouth of the cave. As I glanced back one final time at the cave behind me, my eyes fell on the piece of paper lying next to the bearskin pelt: the letter from my father. I dashed back into the cave and picked it up, carefully folding it closed, before sliding it back into the silver chest I found it in and fastening the clasp. Then I tucked the chest under my arm and rejoined Artemis and Zoë on the steps outside the cave. Both of them glanced briefly down at the box before looking away.

Just as my mother said, the Hunters had set up camp a few miles outside the border of what was officially Death Valley National Park. We could see the small grove of silver tents from over a mile away, as well as the tower of smoke that rose above the central campfire. "I told them not to light a fire," Artemis muttered as we approached.

A big, beefy red-headed girl met us at the edge of the camp. She nodded briefly to Zoë, then her eyes shifted to me. Initially, they were filled with disdain, but then I saw a flash of recognition, followed by possibly something akin to pity. I narrowed my eyes; I'd seen that look before. It was the same look in Zoë's eyes when she'd first met me. The only thing I could figure was that this girl had been another one of the Hunters who had seen my back when they first rescued me from Krios. The thought made me uncomfortable.

Finally, she turned to Artemis. "My lady," she greeted, inclining her head respectfully.

The goddess waved her off. "You know how I feel about formalities among the Hunters, Phoebe."

The girl, apparently named Phoebe, shrugged. "And you know, with all due respect milady, you can't stop us."

"To my great regret." Artemis nodded at the burning pile of wood in the middle of the cluster of tents and frowned disapprovingly. "I thought I said not to build a fire." Phoebe shifted awkwardly, looking slightly abashed, until Artemis sighed and waved her off again. "Don't worry about it. I only said that because we wouldn't be staying here long and I didn't want to bother with the trouble."

"How long will it be until we leave?"

"As long as it takes you to get the girls ready and break camp."

"I'll get right on that. But if you don't mind me asking" – Phoebe gestured to me – "who's he, and is he traveling with us?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I can speak, you know," I said. "You could just ask me directly." She ignored me, instead waiting for Artemis to answer her. I wanted to roll my eyes at her childish behavior, but I doubted that would improve her already biased opinion of me.

"Yes, he is," answered my mother. After a moment's hesitation, she added, "To Camp Half-Blood."

Phoebe groaned. "Why do we have to go back there?"

"We won't be staying overnight," Artemis assured her. "Only long enough to get Orion settled."

At the sound of my name, Phoebe stiffened. Zoë, who had been silent up to this point, was the first to notice. She stepped forward and placed her arm around Phoebe's shoulder in an attempt to diffuse a suddenly awkward situation. "Come on, Phoebe," I heard her say as she guided her towards the tents. The redhead's body was still clearly tense. "We have quite the story to tell you…"

I watched Zoë summon the rest of the Hunters into a group with no small amount of trepidation. As much as I detested the Hunters' policy of automatically distrusting every male they met, I wasn't too keen on the idea of them knowing my full story either.

"You do not wish for her to divulge your past." Artemis' quietly uttered statement reached my ears.

I sighed. "It's not exactly that, it's just…"

She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. "I would rather have them give you the respect and companionship you deserve than mistreat you out of ignorance."

"I know," I said. "I hope they don't, um… assume anything wrongly about you."

"Mmm." Artemis nodded knowingly. "My girls know what would never happen. Perhaps at first, they may make false assumptions, but I think they will believe Zoë's explanation without too much convincing."

"I just don't want them to hold it against me – or you, for that matter."

"I do not think that they will."

After a while, the group of Hunters began to disperse to break camp, some of them shooting curious glances at Artemis and me. With the enchantment on their tents, all they had to do was mutter a quick word and the silver material folded itself down into a neat square of fabric. Because of that, it only took them a few minutes to fully pack up the encampment, and most of that was spent dousing the fire and burying what was left of the logs.

When they had finished, the Hunters gathered around Artemis and I. Zoë walked up to us and dipped her head. "We're ready to go, milady," she announced.

Artemis nodded. She swept her gaze across the twenty- or thirty-odd teenage girls in silver jackets and leggings. "Before we depart," she began. "I'd like to address a topic, one that Zoë has hopefully already explained to all of you. As such, I will be brief." She placed her hand on my shoulder, and I tried my best to appear calm and confident. "This is my son, Orion." Mutterings stirred through the assembled Hunters. "I know what that name means to most of you. But as Zoë has already clarified, Orion has set himself apart from his father. He is more than deserving of our respect, and will be treated as such. If anyone has any complaints – which you shouldn't – take them up with me. Am I understood?"

A chorus of _yes, milady_ 's and _loud and clear_ 's came from the Hunters. With that settled, Artemis nodded. "In that case, it's time to get going."

* * *

 **First of all, I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter of part 1. Did you like the resolution of the arc of Orion's problem, or did it feel too... I don't know, simple or rushed or something? Please, review and let me know. I don't get enough reviews and it would be lovely to have regular feedback.**

 **So I don't usually do an A/N at the end of my chapters but I just wanted to clarify something so I'm not giving the wrong impression. When I say that this is "the last chapter of part 1," I don't mean that I'll be starting a new story. I just sort of divided up the story into two parts in my head: the first part that focuses on Orion's origin and eventual resolution of his fate, and the second part, which focuses on his interaction with the canonical cast and plotlines.**

 ** _It is, at best, an unofficial classification._ So don't get confused when I refer to part 1 and part 2; it's the same book, and I didn't even officially break it into two segments. Thinking of the story in two parts just helped me organize my ideas for plot arcs better.**

 **Hopefully, chapter 9 (which happens to be the first chapter of the unofficial part 2) should be posted during the middle of next week sometime. Until then, take care!**


	9. Chapter 9: The Next Step

**Wow, I actually did manage to update within a week. I'm so proud of myself. :)**

 **This chapter and next chapter were originally only one chapter, but when I ended at over 13k words, I realized that was a little unnecessary and that were was probably a favorable spot towards the middle where I could break them up. On the plus side, because of that, I can now GUARANTEE you that the next chapter will be out within another week, because it's already finished :)**

 **Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please review and let me know what you think! Fav and follow as always.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 9: The Next Step

Everything was going as planned until we were almost to New York.

Up until then, the cross-country journey had been relatively uneventful, if a bit lonely. How could a three-thousand mile trip with thirty-odd immortal teenage girls for companions possibly be lonely, you might ask? Well, imagine hanging out in an animal shelter with a bunch of skittish puppies. If you made an effort to befriend them and pet them, they'd eventually warm up to you, but otherwise they tended to avoid you out of nervousness.

That was what it was like to travel with the Hunters. After Artemis' initial words to them, they accepted my presence with little outward hostility, but I could tell they still didn't really want me there. Most of them preferred to keep their distance from me, and to be perfectly honest, I was content to let them. I wasn't a fan of all the pointless passive-aggression; in my humble opinion, I thought the Hunters might be hitting their "sulky teenager" phases.

That was fine by me. I mean, I could understand where they were coming from. It wasn't so much that they had anything against me; it was just that, to most of them, I was only a painful reminder of a messy past. With time, perhaps, they might eventually be able to overlook that, but until that time came, I could just ignore the wary glances and awkward silences.

The one Hunter who at least maintained some semblance of courteousness was, of course, Zoë Nightshade. Throughout the trip, I kept catching her staring at me with a conflicted look on her face, as if she wanted to talk to me, but she never did. Every time she realized I'd noticed her gaze, though, she turned away.

And that was pretty much how things went. During the days, I traveled slightly apart from the rest of the Hunters, while when we stopped to rest at night, I had my own tent that I retired to after watch duty.

Then on the sixth day, our route suddenly changed.

We were probably a few dozen miles past the border between Pennsylvania and New York when Artemis called a halt. I frowned. It was the middle of the afternoon, nowhere near time to rest, and I couldn't see anything amiss. Why were we stopping?

The girls gathered around their mistress, who was down on one knee and staring at the ground with narrowed eyes. "What is it, milady?" Zoë asked, voicing what we were all thinking.

"Do you remember why we were in the woods of Colorado the night we found Orion?" Artemis said, still focusing on the ground around her.

"We were tracking something," the lieutenant recalled. She scrunched her eyebrows. "A manticore, perhaps?"

Artemis nodded and stood. "Yes, a manticore. The slippery devil managed to get away from us after we got distracted by Krios. However, I believe we've just had a stroke of luck." She brushed the dirt off the knee of her silver pants. "He was in this area recently, heading north."

"How recently?"

"Maybe a week," Artemis answered. "Possibly a bit longer. If we are to catch up to him, this may be our only opportunity." She turned to face me. "I am sorry, Orion, but it seems we must delay your trip to Camp Half-Blood. I will not let this monster evade me a second time. We can head back south to Long Island once we've dealt with him."

I shrugged. "That's fine by me," I assured her, even though I knew she was informing me rather than asking for permission. "It's not like Camp is going anywhere." Then I grinned wickedly and rubbed my palms together. "Besides, I've been longing for a little action. Lead the way, mother."

We followed the manticore's trail further north, as Artemis predicted. The trip was just as tense and awkward for me as it had been earlier, only now the geography became a factor, too. The weather grew colder, compounding my discomfort. As snow and sleet pounded down around us, and the ground transitioned from green and brown to white, I began to really appreciate my trusty black jacket. I had no idea what material it was made out of, but as thin as it seemed, it kept out the frigid winter air and frozen precipitation brilliantly. Maybe Apollo had enchanted it or something.

Two days after we started following the manticore, we crossed the state line of Maine. Artemis tracked the monster across the state all the way to the eastern coast, right alongside the Atlantic, to a town called Bar Harbor. There, the trail stopped.

When we arrived, we stuck to the trees as much as we could, trying to skirt around the actual buildings of the town. We didn't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, partly to avoid spooking the mortals, but mostly because we didn't want the manticore to catch wind of our presence. Artemis led us through the forest until, all of a sudden, the trees opened up to reveal a rather imposing view.

Ahead of us loomed an imposing black stone castle on a snowy cliff overlooking the ocean. It looked like a stereotypical evil king's lair, complete with towers, slits for windows, and a big set of fancy wooden double doors. My stomach churned unpleasantly; it reminded me too much of Krios' palace in the mountains of Colorado. Zoë caught my eye with a concerned look, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. It made me furious that just the slightest memory of that place could unnerve me so much, so I clenched my fist and pushed it to the back of my mind.

As I scanned the area around the castle, my eyes landed on a strange scene. "There," I called out to Artemis, pointing. She followed my finger, taking in the situation quickly.

The most notable thing was the sleek black military gunship that hovered above the edge of the cliff, the deafening chopping of its rotor blades filling the air around us. On the ground, I could see two younger kids, a boy and a girl, huddled down next to a slightly older girl with blond hair. Another older girl, this one with spiky black hair, was on her back, her shield and spear lying a few feet away from her grasp, while a boy (also with black hair) about her age crouched protectively over her with a dented shield. A boy with curly brown hair and – hang on, were those _hooves_? – had also been knocked down and was groaning in the snow next to a set of reed pipes.

I frowned. Something about the black-haired boy seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. I shrugged and dismissed it; it was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.

In the middle of the dazed teenagers stood what I could only assume was the manticore we had been tracking. He was larger than I expected, with the body of a full-grown lion, the head of a human man, and a scorpion's tail. According to Artemis, he could throw spikes from his tail with blinding speed and accuracy. That wasn't something I was eager to test, though I imagined I'd find out soon enough, whether I wanted to or not.

The Hunters and I summoned our bows and quickly moved forward, to the edge of the tree line. Once we were in position, Artemis signaled to Phoebe, who drew out the hunting horn and blew.

The clear, ringing tone pierced through the air. All movement on the cliff ceased, save the spinning of the chopper blades.

The manticore breached the silence. "No," he said, his voice laced with panic (it gave me a sort of grim satisfaction to hear that). "It cannot be –"

Artemis cut his sentence short by launching an arrow. It shot through the air like a streak of moonlight before plunging into the manticore's shoulder.

The monster staggered backwards, howling in pain. "Curse you!" he cried. His tail whipped to and from in a blur of gray, and suddenly dozens of sharp little objects like darts came speeding towards the trees.

Artemis smiled, gesturing invitingly at the incoming projectiles. "Shall we, girls?" she said, then, in an afterthought, added, "And Orion." Grinning in savage pleasure, we drew back on our bowstrings and let our arrows fly. With inhuman accuracy, the glowing bolts of silver intercepted the manticore's spikes and sliced them cleanly in two.

As I watched, the beast reached up with one paw and ripped my mother's arrow out of his shoulder with a painful grunt. The black-haired teenager tried to catch him off guard and swung at him with his bronze sword, but with an almost casual flick, the monster dodged the attack and slammed his tail into the boy's already dented shield, knocking him aside. I winced in sympathy.

Artemis directed us forward again, and we revealed ourselves from the darkness of the forest. "The Hunters!" I heard the blond girl cry out. The black-haired girl muttered something under breath that I was too far away to catch. The Hunters and I stopped in a line, forming a semicircle around the manticore.

I decided to take the initiative. I approached the monster, my bow drawn and an arrow nocked to the string, trained on my target in front of me. "So, boys and girls, what seems to be the issue here?" I drawled sarcastically. "It wouldn't happen to be the wild manticore right in front of me, would it?"

"This is not fair!" the manticore wailed. "Direct interference! It is against the Ancient Laws!"

My mother stepped forward and joined me. "False," she countered. "My domain includes the hunting of all wild beasts. And you, undoubtedly, are a wild beast." She nodded to me, though it was out of my field of vision. "Go ahead, Orion."

"If I cannot have these demigods alive," the manticore snarled, "I will have them dead!" With a growl, he lunged at the black-haired boy and girl.

"No!" yelled the blond girl, and like a mindless fool, she charged at the manticore.

I blame myself for what happened next. In all honesty, I probably could have loosed my arrow right then and stuck the monster in the heart before the girl ever reached him. But as she dashed forward into my line of fire, I hesitated. "Get back, you idiot!" I shouted. But of course, she didn't listen.

She leaped onto the monster's back (a fairly courageous and impressive feat, actually, if it hadn't been so ridiculously stupid) and drove her knife into his mane. He yowled in pain and stumbled backwards, dangerously close now to the edge of the cliff.

I gritted my teeth in frustration and a particularly strong gust of wind swept across the cliff. My finger slipped on the string and my arrow shot forward. It slammed into the manticore's chest, the force of it driving him even further towards the bluff. He stared at me with hatred and fury in his eyes. "I do not know who you are," he growled. "But know that this is not the end. You shall pay, along with the rest of the Hunters!"

And just like that, he turned and threw himself off the cliff… with the blond girl still clutching onto his back.

"Annabeth!" the black-haired boy yelled. He started to charge towards the edge of the cliff, but we'd somehow forgotten about the armed helicopter that still floated above us. With the sharp _crack_ and _snap_ of gunfire, the gunship opened up on us, smattering the snow with tiny holes. I wrapped my arms around the black-haired demigod who now seemed too stunned to move and yanked him back, pulling him down onto the snow and shielding his body with my own. I looked over and saw my mother standing calmly in the midst of the hail of bullets, staring intently at the helicopter.

"Mortals," she announced, "are not allowed to witness my hunt." She held up her hand, her palm facing the chopper, then squeezed it into a fist. With a rush of air and a noisy _shwoop_ , the aircraft dissolved into a flock of small ravens that dispersed into the wind.

Next to me, the boy struggled to his feet and lurched towards the bluff. I accompanied him, just to make sure he wasn't thinking of doing anything stupid, like jumping off the cliff after his friend. When we gazed down over the edge, I half-expected to see the rocks below adorned with the broken and lifeless bodies of the manticore and the blond demigod girl, apparently Annabeth.

There was nothing but churning gray ocean.

The boy beside me visibly sagged, and I took a moment to examine him. He was just a couple of inches shorter than me, with wild, unruly black hair. He wore jeans, boots, and a black winter coat over top of an orange t-shirt. Once again, I was struck by the same sense of familiarity I'd experienced earlier, and I frowned in puzzlement. Then he turned to face me, and I saw his eyes for the first time.

They were blue-green, like the sea. My heart pounded in my chest. All of a sudden, I knew why I recognized him.

He was the son of Poseidon I'd seen in my dreams.

* * *

Following my realization of the boy's identity, I suddenly grew uncomfortable in his presence. I still didn't know why or how I'd seen him in my dreams, but now that I was actually standing alongside him in the flesh… Add to that the fact that he had just lost someone he obviously cared about, and I found myself feeling inexplicably awkward.

I cleared my throat. He looked at me expectantly. "Let's, uh, go join the others," I said. I led him back over to where the Hunters had regrouped, facing the teenagers we'd just rescued.

Zoë seemed to be having a stand-off with the girl with the spiky black hair. "You," she said, her lip curling in distaste. I raised my eyebrow. The last time I'd seen Zoë behave like this was the first time she'd met me.

To her credit, the other girl responded in kind. "Zoë Nightshade," she all-but-growled, her fists clenched at her side. "Perfect timing, as usual." Her mocking tone made it clear exactly what she thought of the Hunt's lieutenant.

As I walked over to stand in between next to my mother, Zoë gave the girl one last condescending look before sweeping her gaze over the girl's companions. I decided to copy her action.

Standing side-by-side were two siblings, I guessed, because of their proximity and their remarkably similar appearances. They were both of average height; the girl was a couple of years older than the boy, so she was taller, but they both had fair olive skin, dark hair, and black eyes that were similar to Zoë's. She wore a floppy green cap that obscured her face, while he was messing with a small plastic figurine.

Standing next to them, still looking like someone had just run over his cat, was the son of Poseidon (whose name I still didn't know). His messy black hair looked even worse, as if he'd been combing his hand through it in frustration. His sea-green eyes were roiling with emotion, like a tropical storm, and his hands fidgeted at his sides.

In a similar state of moodiness was the other guy – the one with hooves. His red hat had shifted on his head during the commotion, and I could make out a small pair of horns poking out of his hair. I imagined that if he were to take off his baggy jeans (…not that I was thinking too much about that, of course), it would reveal a pair of furry goat legs. I'd never met a satyr in person before, but this one didn't seem much like talking right now. He shared a glance with the son of Poseidon and fingered his reed pipes dejectedly.

At last, I turned my attention to the final member of their group: the girl that Zoë apparently had some kind of history with. She looked to be around fifteen or sixteen. She was tall for her age, matching me in height, but her jet-black hair that was drawn up into spikes gave her the advantage. She wore a ripped-up army jacket, black leather trousers, and several items of chain jewelry around her neck like some kind of punk rock junkie. As I examined her face, I was drawn immediately to her eyes. They were a striking electric blue, outlined in heavy black eyeliner. All in all, she really didn't look like someone you wanted to mess with – which meant that, at some point, I had to mess with her.

After quickly glancing over them, Zoë declared, "Four half-bloods and a satyr, milady."

Artemis nodded. "So it would seem," she agreed. "Some of Chiron's campers, if I had to guess."

All of a sudden, the black-haired son of Poseidon stumbled forward. There was a slightly crazed look in his eye. "You're just going to stand around talking like this when Annabeth is gone?" he demanded. "You have to let us save her!"

My mother turned to face him. "I am sorry, Percy Jackson," she said, and to my surprise, she did sound genuinely sorry. "But for now, you friend is beyond help."

The boy, whose name I finally knew now was Percy, turned and tried to make a break for the cliff. A couple of the Hunters grabbed him after a couple of steps and held him back.

"You are not in any condition to be jumping off of a cliff," Artemis continued, frowning at the boy's behavior.

"Let me go!" Percy yelled. "Who do you think you are?"

I snorted. If only he knew.

Zoë, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to slap him, but my mother placed a calming hand on her arm. "Be calm, Zoë. The boy means no disrespect. He is simply upset; he is not thinking clearly."

She turned back to Percy Jackson, and unless it was just me, she seemed to grow colder and more regal. "I am Artemis," she said. "Goddess of the Hunt."

I wished I had a camera to capture Percy's reaction; it was priceless. He blinked a couple of times, then stammered out an awkward, "Um… okay." I nearly laughed out loud and rolled my eyes, but by some miracle, I managed to restrain myself.

Meanwhile, his satyr friend went into full grovel mode. He scrambled to throw himself at Artemis' feet and began showering her with praises and compliments. This time, I didn't even bother trying to stop myself.

The spiky-haired punk girl didn't look very happy. "Can it, Grover!" she snapped.

The satyr, apparently called Grover, paused in his prostrations and peered up at her hopefully. "Cans?" he said dreamily. "Where?"

The punk girl pressed her palm to her forehead and groaned.

While she explained to him that it was an expression, she didn't actually have any cans, and they had other things to worry about anyway, I leaned over to Zoë and whispered, "Who are the brother and sister and the punk girl?"

"The punk girl is Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus," she responded out of the corner of her mouth, and I noticed the disgust that creeped into her tone as she said the name. "The siblings are Bianca and Nico di Angelo."

Right as the words left her mouth, Bianca di Angelo made a _time-out_ gesture and spoke for the first time. "Wait a minute. Hold up." She gestured to each of us in turn. "Who are you people?"

My mother's attitude seemed to soften a bit as she beheld the bewildered demigod. "Perhaps it would be easier to explain if we were first to ask the question, 'Who are _you_ , my dear?'" she said. "Who are your parents?"

"Um, our parents are dead," Bianca said uncertainly, as if she didn't believe it was true but was trying to convince herself. "We're orphans. I mean, we have a trust fund that pays for our schooling, but other than that…" She broke off when she was met with silence and disbelieving looks (that kind of crowd response tends to have that effect on people). "What? I'm telling the truth!"

"You may think you are," I said, "but you're wrong." Bianca glared at me like she wanted to retort, but I kept going before she could. "You're a half-blood. One of your parents was mortal, the other was an Olympian."

Now she just looked confused. "Like an Olympian… athlete?"

"No," Zoë said. "An Olympian god."

"Awesome!" Nico di Angelo cheered.

His sister looked like she was going to have a mental breakdown. "No, Nico," she said, her voice quavering. "This is most definitely _not_ awesome!"

The younger boy ignored her and began jumping around happily, spouting nonsense about hit points and attack power. Frustrated, Bianca covered her face with her hands. "Nico, shut up! This isn't your stupid card game; this is real life! There are no gods!"

Thalia sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's hard to believe, but it _is_ true. The gods really exist, and they're still around. Sometimes, they have kids with mortals: kids like us. Our lives are usually… dangerous."

"Dangerous," Bianca repeated. "Like the girl who fell?"

The assembled members of our group cast our heads down dejectedly. Even my mother looked pained.

"If Annabeth can be found, I will find her," Artemis vowed. "But at the moment, we must discuss our plans. Originally, my Hunters and I were on our way to Camp, and now it seems even more imperative that you follow through with that route."

"Camp?" Bianca asked. "What is Camp?"

"Camp Half-Blood," Percy answered. "It's a safe haven and training camp for demigods. You'll have a cabin to live in, and they'll teach you how to fight and survive and stuff. You can even stay year round if you want."

"Awesome!" Nico cheered again. I was beginning to wonder if his vocabulary was limited only to that word and anything to do with his children's card game.

"There _is_ another option," Zoë pointed out. I looked at her curiously, wondering if she was going to suggest what I thought she was going to suggest.

"No, there isn't," Thalia growled angrily. Once again, the two girls entered into a ferocious staring contest, neither willing to back down.

"Enough," Artemis ordered. "We will rest here for a few hours. Girls, raise the tents. Treat the wounded. Retrieve our guests' personal effects from the school, if you will." A chorus of _yes, milady_ 's echoed around us, a phenomenon I was getting more and more used to. "Oh, and Bianca? Come with me; I would like to speak with you."

The Hunters set up camp as quickly as always, and I watched as Bianca dazedly trailed Artemis into her tent. Meanwhile, I noticed Thalia and Percy getting into some sort of argument, so I decided to do what was starting to become a habit for me: I went off on my own.

I walked over to the cliff and sat down, dangling my legs over the edge. There was something so thrilling about lounging around so close to danger, but never feeling afraid. My isolated position gave me some much-needed thinking time to digest the night's events.

I sat there for hours, just reveling in the chill of the ocean spray thrown up from the rocks below, but even the frigid water couldn't numb the guilt that weighed me down. I blamed myself for the unfortunate fate of the blond girl, Annabeth, who'd fallen. I replayed the moment over and over again, wondering if there was anything I could or should have done differently. It was too late now, though. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.

Eventually, I heard the soft rustle of disturbed snow and Zoë's voice asked from behind me, "What are you thinking about?"

I looked up, gazing out across the waves, and gestured aimlessly. "I don't know. You. This. Everything." I know; coherent, right?

Zoë at least seemed to understand that I was troubled, though. "Do you want to talk?"

I considered the question. Yes, I did want to talk – but not now. I knew that the conversation Zoë and I needed to have had been building for a while. It was going to be long and probably difficult for both of us, and I didn't want to do that here, in front of everyone. "Yes," I said. "But not right now. Once we get to Camp?"

"Alright," she said softly. I thought she had gone, but then after a moment, she added, "It wasn't your fault, Orion." The snow crunched again as her footsteps receded.

I sighed. I felt like it really was, but it wasn't doing me much good to be moping around about it now. Besides, if I was going to be staying at Camp Half-Blood with Grover, Percy, Thalia, and the di Angelos, I might as well try and make friends with them. I struggled to my feet, wiped the snow off my butt, then headed over to the campfire where the satyr and the group of demigods (minus Thalia and Bianca) were seated.

Percy was having a nasty-looking wound on his shoulder tended to by Grover, munching on a square of ambrosia, while Nico motioned animatedly at a collection of figurines he'd laid out on the snow. The three looked up from their activities as I approached.

"I'm Orion," I introduced myself immediately. Percy seemed to be the de facto leader, so I offered my hand to him, which he shook. "Nice to meet you guys, though the circumstances could be better."

Percy nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. Then he added, rather unnecessarily (though, to be fair, he didn't know I knew their names), "I'm Percy; he's Grover, and that's Nico." I acknowledged the information with a nod and sat down next to them, in front of the fire.

"If you don't mind me asking," Grover began, and I knew immediately that I probably _was_ going to mind, "I can smell you're a half-blood, too, but… who's your godly parent?"

Of course. Why had it never occurred to me that if I was going to stay at Camp Half-Blood, people would want to know who my parent was? I really didn't want to just say, _Oh, it's my mother, she's over there in that tent chatting with Bianca_ , mainly because I didn't want to deal with the questions I knew they would pester me with in response. So I went with the easy route and pushed the problem to the back of my mind, resolving to worry about it later.

I shrugged. "I don't know yet," I lied.

Grover frowned. He didn't look convinced. "Why were you traveling with the Hunters?"

"They found me in the woods and saved my life. We were on the way to Camp Half-Blood when we caught the manticore's trail." At least that part was the truth, even if it wasn't the whole truth.

The satyr still looked unsatisfied. "They're not usually so friendly with boys, even ones they've saved in the woods." His tone bordered on suspicious.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Nico and Percy were watching our exchange cautiously, sensing a conflict. Well, Percy did; I don't think Nico really had any clue what was going on.

Fortunately, I was rescued from my precarious position by the authoritative voice of the Hunt's lieutenant. "Percy Jackson," Zoë announced, striding purposefully over to us. When she arrived, she fixed the son of Poseidon with the look I knew so well from when she first met me; the look that said, _I would rather be eating elephant dung than talking to you right now_. "Come with me. Lady Artemis wishes to speak with you."

As Percy got up, Zoë's volcanic black eyes flickered briefly to me, her face a mask of unreadable emotion. I held her gaze just as calmly, before she turned and escorted Percy to my mother's tent.

"What do you think she wants with him?" Grover asked in a hushed tone, as if he was afraid of the Hunters overhearing his question.

"Oh, I don't know," I mused casually. "I'd be willing to bet she wants to turn him into a deer. Or maybe a jackalope." The satyr's face paled, and I let out a bark of laughter. "Calm down, I'm just kidding. She probably just wants to get his take on what happened here or something like that. I wouldn't worry too much."

At that moment, Thalia stomped over to the fire, muttering something about rude, stupid Hunters. She angrily plopped herself down in the snow, then noticed me for the first time. Her eyes narrowed. "Who's he?" she demanded from Grover.

I cleared my throat. "I'm right here, you know. I wouldn't mind telling you myself if you asked nicely."

She turned her head sharply, fixing me with what I assumed was supposed to be a death glare. I met her electric-blue eyes evenly, showing no sign of being affected by her hostility. To further antagonize her, I introduced myself as one might to a five-year-old. I pointed to my own chest, then smiled and said, "Orion," making sure to clearly enunciate the word.

Thalia's scowl deepened, if that was possible. "Listen here, _Orion_. My closest friend has just gone missing, probably kidnapped by the Titans. I'm really not in the mood for this right now."

At the words _kidnapped by the Titans_ , I shivered involuntarily; I knew firsthand what that was like. My attitude dampened from mocking to sympathetic. "You're right," I said quietly. "That was callous of me and uncalled-for. I'm sorry."

Thalia just grunted and turned away.

The four of us sat in silence for a few minutes before Artemis, Zoë, Bianca, and Percy filed out of the goddess' tent. Zoë instructed the Hunters to break camp, which, of course, they did in a matter of minutes, while the other three approached us. If I wasn't mistaken, Bianca was now surrounded in a faint silver aura. I supposed that was what my mother wanted to speak with her about: inviting her to join the Hunters.

I addressed my mother immediately. "Are we finally heading to Camp now?" I asked, getting to my feet. "This has been quite the little detour." The demigods around me looked shocked that I would speak to Artemis so casually, but even more astonished when the goddess didn't seem to care.

"Indeed," she acknowledged. "And I apologize for that. I was simply waiting for dawn." Her tone turned somewhat sour. "I am going to ask for a ride from my brother."

The Hunters all groaned. "Oh, no," Zoë moaned.

"Oh, _yes_ ," I said, grinning. "This is going to be fun."

It took a few minutes before the sky began to lighten. I stood somewhat away from the pack (as usual), absentmindedly drawing patterns in the snow with my foot.

"Finally," Artemis muttered. "He's _so_ lazy during the winter."

"Maybe if he knew I was here, he would have picked up the pace," I commented dryly.

Artemis sighed. "Sadly, that is probably true."

I shifted restlessly, eagerly awaiting my uncle's arrival. I hadn't seen him since our farewell at the cave over a week ago, and somehow, I actually missed his jovial attitude and horrendous sense of humor.

After another few minutes, there was a blast of heat and light from the horizon. Knowing what was coming, I started to avert my eyes, until I noticed that Percy and his friends were just standing there obliviously. "You might not want to look," I advised them. "At least, not until he parks." Then I turned away and covered my eyes with my hands, just in case.

There was another rush of warmth. The heat grew until it felt like my clothes were fusing to my skin, then it abruptly died. I heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine shutting down and the driver's door opening.

"Sister!" Apollo called as he got out. I opened my eyes. He was in his typical form of a seventeen-year-old and wearing the red tracksuit I'd come to expect, with the emblazoned sun on the left chest. He sported a pair of black polarized sunglasses, obscuring his eyes, and his smile was blinding.

Artemis gave a tight smile. "Apollo."

He looked around at our assembled group. "Got the girls with you, I see," he said. Then he spotted me, and impossibly, his face brightened even more. "And Orion!" he added happily. "How've you been, buddy?"

I smiled back. "Not too bad."

"Man, the last time I saw you, you had only just rec –"

"Erm, can we not talk about that here?" I interrupted, trying to cut him off discreetly. I don't think it really worked; the people who didn't know my identity were giving me strange looks.

Apollo seemed to realize his mistake as he glanced around to see who else was here. "Ah, right," he said knowingly. "So, Sis, I hear you need a ride?"

"Yes," Artemis said. "Transportation for the Hunters to Camp Half-Blood, as well as these campers."

"Not a problem!" Apollo declared. He took out a car remote. "I really hate changing out of sports car mode, but I suppose desperate times, desperate measures." He pressed a button on the remote, and the car chirped twice in response. It was obscured by a bright white glow, and when it faded, a charter-style travel bus was in its place. "Alrighty, everybody in."

As all we all filed onto the bus, I heard Apollo ask Artemis, "Where are you off to, again?"

"Hunting," she answered shortly. "My solo missions are none of your business."

I frowned. Since when was my mother going on a solo mission? She hadn't mentioned anything about that to me. What if something happened to her? Then I scoffed at myself. Artemis was a goddess; nothing was going to happen to her.

After a few more moments of bickering with Apollo, she knelt and placed a hand to the ground, just like she had when we started tracking the manticore. She muttered something to herself. Then she quickly stood and dashed off into the woods.

* * *

The flight/drive to Camp Half-Blood was mostly uninteresting – unless you consider almost starting a forest fire, nearly flash-freezing a village, and ultimately crash-landing into a lake interesting. Apollo had coerced Thalia into driving the bus, much to her dismay, as apparently she had a thing about heights. A fact I found highly ironic, given her father was the Lord of the Sky. I'm sure I wasn't the only one thinking that, either.

By the time we did eventually arrive at the Camp, plummeting like a meteor into the canoe lake with a giant _WOOOSH_ , everyone was just glad to be out of the sky.

"That probably could have gone better," I said, after leaping from the stairs of the bus to the shore in one jump.

Apollo shrugged. "I've seen worse. Student drivers are like a box of chocolates; you never what you're gonna get." I didn't even bother questioning the simile, or the fact that it was a play on a Forrest Gump quote. You kind of got used to that sort of thing after hanging around Apollo.

Finally, everyone who had been on the sun bus was assembled on the shore of the lake. As soon as all the Hunters were there, Zoë announced, "We will be in Cabin Eight." Grover offered to show them the way, and despite the lieutenant's assurances that they knew how to get there, he started walking off towards a section of interesting-looking buildings arranged in an inverted U. The Hunters trailed behind.

Thalia still looked a little shaken. She ignored everyone, choosing also to head towards the cabin complex, though she kept a good distance between her and the Hunters.

I started to follow after Zoë and the girls, but then I realized what that might look like to everyone else, so I stayed put. Besides, I probably needed to talk to whoever runs this place about my… situation, before I got settled in anywhere.

Apollo transformed his chariot back into his red Maserati Spyder. "Watch out for those prophecies, Percy Jackson," he called out as he slid into the driver's seat. "I'll see you soon." He saluted me. "And you take care, Orion. Give these people a chance; they won't judge you as harshly as you think." I swallowed, but managed a nod and a wave. His piece said, Apollo started the ignition, and in a flare of light and heat, he was gone.

Percy stared at me weirdly after Apollo's words. I did my best to ignore it, and instead asked, "So, should I, like, talk to the guy who runs things around here?"

The son of Poseidon tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah," he said. "I have to take Nico to see Chiron and Mr. D, too, so you should just tag along with us."

I nodded, and we set off.

We followed along the banks of a small creek that flowed in both directions from the lake; one branch went behind us, out to the Long Island Sound, while the other curved lazily towards a structure Percy said was the Arts and Crafts building, a set of beach volleyball courts, and a large, baby blue, three-story farmhouse. That, I assumed, was our destination.

As we walked, I swept my eyes over the rest of the Camp. Our point of arrival (that being the lake, of course) seemed to be roughly in the center. In the opposite direction from where we were walking, there was a classical Greek amphitheater made of white stone. Further behind that I could make out what appeared to be a gigantic climbing wall – except there was lava flowing down it from a spout on the top. Next to that, on the opposite side of the creek, was an open-air pavilion that was probably the Camp's mess hall.

To the right of the lake was the small village of cabins. I couldn't help but feel like the U arrangement looked somehow familiar. After a while, I realized why: it was the exact same formation of the gods' throne room I'd seen in one of my dreams. Following that discovery, I examined the cabins closer, and sure enough, I could match each one's unique design to a specific deity.

Behind the cabins was a large expanse of forest, with another creek flowing out of it. More buildings were laid out along the edge of the woods; I could make out an arena, an armory, and maybe a stable.

Everything was coated in a light dusting of snow, and it was cool, but pleasantly so. Nothing close to what it had been like in Maine.

After a little bit of a hike, we arrived in front of the farmhouse. "Welcome to the Big House," Percy said, gesturing at the building. It was adorned with strings of little red and yellow fireballs like Christmas lights, contrasting with the shade of blue it was painted. It looked quaint, and seemed cozy enough.

Indeed, when we stepped inside, the air smelled pleasantly of hot chocolate. In the parlor, two men with drastically different appearances were sitting at a table, playing some kind of card game.

Well, one of them wasn't exactly sitting at the table; he was in a wheelchair. He looked middle-aged, maybe fifties or sixties, with a long, dark brown beard and curly brown hair. He wore a wool sweater with a big black hoofprint in the center, and a blanket was draped over the front of his body, covering his legs. His warm brown eyes shone with deep wisdom and infinite kindness. He gave off the vibe of a mentor or father figure.

The other man, meanwhile, couldn't have been more opposite. He was fat and ugly, to put it bluntly, with a short, scruffy beard and a balding head. He also looked to be around the age of fifty, but age had not been so kind to him as it had the other man. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were slightly bloodshot, as if he was drunk. He had on an appalling neon orange leopard-skin tracksuit that made my eyes water to look at. I wrinkled my nose. He even smelled like he was drunk.

"Ah, Percy!" The kindly man smiled as we walked in. "I see you've brought guests."

"Yeah," the son of Poseidon replied. "Chiron, this is Nico di Angelo, and this is Orion. They're both half-bloods." Chiron… as in, the centaur? I supposed it wouldn't be too far outside the realm of possibility to assume that.

Chiron nodded at Nico, then scrutinized me intensely. I got the feeling he already knew who I was. For some reason, that made me uncomfortable.

He soon turned his attention back to Percy. "I take it your mission was a success, then?"

"Well…" Percy gave a run-through of what had transpired at the cliff in Maine.

Chiron's face grew sad. "I fear Lady Artemis may be correct; Annabeth is likely beyond our reach. However, even if we cannot help her, Artemis will find her. We have to hold on to that hope."

Percy nodded solemnly.

Chiron stroked his beard. "Percy, my boy, would you please brief Mr. di Angelo on the activities here and take him on the tour?" he requested. "I would like to speak with Orion." He fixed me again with that intense, soul-searching stare. He didn't need to speak the last word for it to be clear: _Alone_.

Percy blinked, looking back and forth between us like he was watching a tennis match. "Uh, okay," he said. "Nice to see you again, Chiron. Come on, Nico." He put a hand on Nico's shoulder and steered him out of the building.

"Lord Dionysus, you'll have to excuse me for this round," Chiron said apologetically to the fat man. (So this guy was a god, huh? What was it with gods and tracksuits?) "I will rejoin you in a moment." Mr. D glanced at me, then grunted in a bored way, not appearing at all interested. Chiron swept his hand towards the open doorway into his office. "This way, please, Orion."


	10. Chapter 10: Acceptance

**We're into double digits now on chapters :D**

 **Full disclosure, I wrote this chapter on the same day I had two of my wisdom teeth extracted. Now, I didn't get very much laughing gas, mostly just anesthesia, so I wasn't that loopy, but I waited until the day after to go back through and edit it. Just to be safe.**

 **On another note, we recently hit 40 followers for this story. I always forget to say it, so thank you so much for your support, guys. I still don't get a lot of reviews, so please please please just take the time to quickly drop one after reading. Y'all's responses and feedback is the driving force behind the story.**

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 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Acceptance

I strode casually into the room, trying to disguise my nervousness under a layer of false confidence, and took a seat in a chair in front of the desk. The older man wheeled into his office behind me and, contrary to my expectations, came to a stop next to me, rather than behind the desk.

He folded his hands over his lap. "You are not in trouble, Orion," he said, giving me a soft smile. I shrugged and angled my chair to face him. "This isn't a formal talk; I just wanted to clarify some things."

"Are you _the_ Chiron?" I blurted out. "Like, the centaur?"

He chuckled. "Yes, I am. I use this" – he waved at the blanket on his legs and his wheelchair – "when I need to be undercover in the mortal world, and to avoid shocking anyone too much – especially new campers."

I nodded in understanding. Silence reigned. Chiron studied me carefully, lingering on my eyes. Eventually, I couldn't stand it any longer. "You know who I am," I said quietly.

"Yes." Chiron tilted his head. "Does that upset you?"

"Not really, I guess. Did Artemis tell you?"

He nodded. "She contacted me a few days ago to let me know she was going to be arriving here soon with the Hunters – and you. Though I see her plans changed somewhat."

"Yeah…" I said. "I'm going to guess you've already connected the dots between Percy's account and the information you had from my mother?"

Chiron smiled. "You are very astute," he complimented me. "You are correct. However, there is one matter that I wish to know your opinion on." I gestured for him to go on, and he continued, "I assume that, outside of the Hunters, Artemis, and myself, no one knows of your identity?"

"Apollo, too, but other than that, that's right."

"You can understand, then, why staying in Cabin Eight would raise suspicions." I nodded. "Therefore, you can do one of two things. Every night, after dinner, we have a bonfire, during which we share news and introduce new campers. If you so wish, you can announce your identity there."

I paled. "To the whole camp?"

"Yes."

At first, the prospect of informing the entire camp of my identity was too daunting to even consider. But then, I realized that was exactly what I needed. If I could reveal everything to everyone at once, I wouldn't have to keep telling the whole story of my creation and defending my mother's honor every time I told someone my identity. Apollo's words echoed in my mind: _Give these people a chance; they won't judge you as harshly as you think_.

"The second option –" Chiron began, but I was already shaking my head.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'll do the first one." I hoped that speaking decisively would fill me with confidence I didn't actually feel. It helped a little bit.

Chiron nodded and smiled encouragingly. "Very well. The campfire will be after dinner; you have until then to think of what you wish to say."

I gulped, but nodded as well. "Where should I stay until dinner?" I asked. "What can I do?"

The centaur stroked his beard. "Perhaps you could spend some time in the arena," he suggested. "You may wish to practice your archery or swordplay before capture-the-flag tomorrow."

That sounded like a good idea, so I accepted his advice and began to walk out of his office. But as I did, something jerked in the back of my mind. "Chiron," I said hesitantly, returning to the chair I had occupied earlier. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my boy." He gazed at me questioningly.

"Well, I recently heard about something called the Altruist's Oath, and I was just wondering: what is it?"

Chiron's kind face darkened. "I do not know where you heard about such things, Orion, but I would advise that you forget about it."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Chiron, but I can't do that. I really need to know."

"I was afraid you might say that." The centaur sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he seemed to have aged ten years. "What you must understand, Orion," he warned, "is that the Altruist's Oath is old magic, far older even than the gods. It is forbidden magic."

A chill crawled down my spine. Why would Marethyu and my father want me to learn about forbidden magic? "Oh."

"The Oath," Chiron continued, "is essentially an instant healing spell."

I frowned. "What's so bad about that?"

Chiron grimaced. "The Oath goes against the natural order of the world. Mortals, even deities, are not meant to have such power - the power to immediately cure anyone of any injury. As a result, the spell must be a transfer. The caster takes on the wounds of his or her target."

"What do you mean… 'takes on the wounds'?"

"Tell me, Orion: have you heard the expression that energy is neither created nor destroyed, only transformed?" I nodded. "You can think of injuries in the same way. Once someone is injured, that wound is there for good. For some injuries, treatments and healing practices can speed their recovery, but some wounds are beyond even the gods to heal. As I'm sure you can imagine, instant healing of any wound is far too much power for anyone to have. So since, like energy, a wound cannot be destroyed (or in this case, healed), it is transformed - or, more accurately, transferred." He steepled his fingers together in his lap. "Perhaps it is too complicated of a metaphor, but that is the purpose of the Oath. It must be a connection between two people, at least one of whom - the target - must be wounded. When the Oath is invoked, the target's wounds are healed... and instead appear on the body of the caster."

I coughed in shock. "So…" I said slowly. "You're saying that the Oath inflicts the wounds of an injured person onto a healthy one?"

Chiron nodded solemnly. "That is correct. That is why it is called the 'Altruist's Oath'… because it is a sacrifice. The caster of the Oath must be willing to sacrifice his or her own health and wellbeing in order to relieve someone else's suffering."

There was one thing I was still confused about, though. "That still doesn't sound too bad," I said. "Why is it forbidden?"

Chiron gave me a look like a teacher who expected me to know the answer to my own question. "Think, Orion," he implored. "Think about the implications. If there was to be a large battle…"

The light bulb went off in my head. "Wounded soldiers could force people to perform the Oath with them."

He nodded again. "Indeed. And that was exactly what happened, in fact, during the war of 1812. When the gods noticed what was going on, they were not pleased. They worked together to change the magic of the spell, so that the Oath could only be cast by demigods. Additionally, the spell could now sense the intentions of its caster. The magic would only work if the person invoking it was doing so voluntarily. The gods hoped that would be enough to limit its effectiveness to its original purpose: willingly sacrificing yourself in order to give someone else another chance."

"Yet somehow, during the Civil War, the same problem of wide-spread, almost commercial use of the Oath occurred again. The gods were furious, and finally forbade any and all use of the Oath. They declared it too dangerous. And that was the end of that."

I digested his history lesson in silence. I was beginning to realize that the Altruist's Oath was much bigger and more important than I had ever imagined. I still had no idea why Marethyu and my father needed me to know about it, but Chiron's information made me question whether I really wanted to dig deeper.

Chiron rolled his wheelchair over to a trunk and shifted through the contents. "You understand now why I did not wish to tell you," he said, still focusing on the trunk. "Even today, the gods do not like us to discuss it."

I did understand. The possibilities and repercussions of such a powerful spell were staggering.

"However…" Chiron's voice sounded muffled. Then he pulled his head and arm out of the trunk, clutching a small piece of folded paper. "There are some forces at work in this world about which even the gods are ignorant," he said, his voice now clear. He handed me the paper. "I do not know why you have been chosen to learn this piece of forbidden information. I do not like it. But if this is your fate, I will do my best to guide you."

I opened the folded square of paper. One small paragraph was inscribed on it in fine, glowing cerulean handwriting, with two short sentences underneath:

 _I, _, child of _, accept the wounds of _, child of _, as my own._

 _I do this willingly, with a clear heart, free of compulsion, and in full knowledge of the consequences._

 _I offer my body that theirs may be spared._

 _The only written copy of the words of the Altruist's Oath… commit them to memory quickly._

 _The rest is in your heart._

As I read the last word, the top corner of the paper ignited in blue fire. I hurriedly re-read the Oath, making sure to memorize it, then watched as the entire paper crumbled to ashes in my hands.

"Who gave you that?" I asked, my voice shaking. I already suspected the answer, though.

Chiron studied my expression. "I will not speak his name – names have power – but I sense that I do not need to."

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. That was all the confirmation I needed.

My companion sighed. "I am sorry for burdening you, Orion. Perhaps you might wish to expend some energy at the arena to take your mind off things."

I nodded a few times. "I think I will," I said hoarsely. "Thanks, Chiron. I'll see you at dinner."

He smiled kindly. "Of course, my boy. If you ever need anything, I will be happy to assist you."

* * *

Chiron's suggestion proved as therapeutic as I hoped.

After leaving his office in the Big House, I didn't waste any time in heading straight down towards the arena. There were hardly any other people there; only a couple of Hunters drilling arrows into targets at the archery range and a few campers practicing swordplay in the main circle of the arena.

That was something I had noticed as I walked through the Camp earlier. Artemis had said that there could sometimes be hundreds of teenage demigods here, but as it was right now, there were maybe a few dozen. I guessed that most of the campers still spent most of the year attending school in the mortal world, despite the dangers.

As I stepped into the arena, I stripped out of my coat and began stretching out my muscles. I now only wore a black, long-sleeve shirt with a silver crescent moon embroidered on the chest and black athletic pants, lined with silver trim (both of which were gifts from Artemis during our trip here). At first, I was a little chilly, but I knew once I got moving and exercising, I'd be grateful for the cooler temperatures.

I walked up to a group of straw dummies that were arranged in a circle and summoned my trusty katana. I launched into a rapid combo of slashes and fake parries and counters, pretending that the dummies were striking back.

The light dusting of snow that coated the arena floor made it a little difficult to keep my footing, but I didn't mind. In fact, I actually reslished the extra challenge. Training on standard ground was all well and good, but training in all types of conditions was the best way to prepare yourself for the real world.

The longer I practiced, the better I felt. My problems and worries receded to the back of my mind, and I allowed myself to be consumed in the adrenaline. Sweat flew from my face, and I came to realize another benefit of the weather: the wind. It was blowing just enough to sweep away the stench of sweat and body odor and contribute to keeping me cool, but not so much that it was unbearably harsh. As I fought, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the three demigods who had been sparring earlier had stopped and were now spectating me wide-eyed.

Finally, the dummies had been reduced to shreds and I was out of targets to attack. I took a step back, breathing hard, and wiped the sweat off my face with the bottom of my shirt. I turned to the still awestruck campers and observed them silently. They were all boys, two of them about my height, all looking around the age of thirteen or fourteen. One of them had dirty blond hair and intense gray eyes, analyzing me how someone might look at a confusing map or blueprint. I figured he was probably a son of Athena. The middle one looked so much like Apollo I had to do a double take; there was no way this kid wasn't one of the sun god's children. He had the same pure golden-blond, almost yellow, hair and sky blue eyes, and even sported a similar friendly facial expression. The third one was a solid foot shorter than me, with black eyes and brown hair. His face looked scrunched-up, as if he was constantly staring down the shaft of a nocked arrow. Another son of Apollo?

The short guy leaned up and whispered something in the ear of the golden-blond kid, who shook his head. They looked like they wanted to approach me, so I began setting up more dummies for another round to pretend like I was doing something. I returned to busying myself slashing the dummies to pieces and forgot about them for a moment. When I looked up, though, they were gone.

I brushed it off and continued training.

The time passed in a blur. After what felt like only minutes but must have been hours, I heard a conch horn blow in the distance. Chiron had told me that was the signal for dinner time, so I dismissed my sword and wiped my sweaty hands on my shirt. As I did that, I realized the situation I was in and took a good look down at my appearance. I was drenched from head to toe in sweat. My shirt stuck to my skin, showing off the outline of my (rather sculpted, if I do say so myself) chest muscles, and my pants clung to the back of my legs, highlighting my calves.

After a while, though, I shrugged. I was pretty sure this wouldn't be the first time a camper had come to dinner straight from training. Besides, I didn't really care what the other campers thought of me. I set off towards the dining pavilion.

I arrived a few minutes later. It appeared that each table was segregated by cabin, most of which were sparsely populated. Thalia and Percy, being the only children of Zeus and Poseidon, respectively, both sat alone, while most of the other tables had only three or four kids seated around them – except the Artemis table, of course. That's where the Hunters were eating, with Zoë sitting at the head. They were boisterous and laughing, looking more like actual teenage girls than I'd ever seen them.

At the head of the pavilion, there was a table reserved for Mr. D and Chiron, though the latter wasn't sitting. He had reverted back to his full centaur form, revealing the beautiful white coat of his horse body, and was standing at one end of the head table. Loathe to attract attention, I caught the centaur's eyes and asked a silent question. He smiled in that warm, kind way of his and nodded. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed towards his table.

As I passed by the raucous Artemis table, I sent Zoë an apologetic glance. She returned a knowing, sad smile, and I knew she understood exactly what I'd been trying to convey.

I sent down to Chiron's left. "Hello, Orion," he said. He snapped his fingers, and an empty plate and goblet landed in front of me. "Simply speak the food and drink you want," he instructed me, "and the wind nymphs will bring you what you desire. The glass is enchanted, and will fill with whatever drink you want. Though nothing alcoholic," he added.

I stared at my plate and cup and thought for a moment. "Parmesan chicken alfredo and apple juice," I said clearly.

A second later, my empty plate was whisked away and replaced with one adorned with a gorgeous meal of fettucine noodles and parmesan-crusted chicken, smothered in four cheese alfredo sauce. My goblet, as Chiron had said, magically filled with beautiful golden-brown apple juice. I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Nice," I commended.

Right before I could dig in, I felt a hand on my arm. I turned and saw Chiron gazing over at me amusedly. "What?" I asked, my impatience clear in my voice; no one gets between me and my chicken alfredo.

"It is customary to sacrifice a portion of your meal to the fire and dedicate it to your Olympian parent," Chiron explained.

My eyes flickered briefly to the Artemis table. Then I looked lovingly down at my plate and sighed mournfully. "Fine," I grumbled, and stood up. I scraped about a quarter of my pasta into the fire and muttered, "Um, good luck on your hunt, Mom. I hope you find what you're looking for." As the food touched the flames, it dissolved instantly into silver smoke, which wafted up into the air. It smelled comfortingly like a pinewood forest.

I returned to my seat on the bench on the end next to Chiron, who was watching me with an approving look. I didn't talk as I ate my meal, nor did Chiron attempt to start a conversation – something for which I was grateful for. I spent my time staring longingly at Cabin Eight's table, wishing I could be sitting at the right hand of Zoë.

When I say I was staring at the table, it shouldn't be difficult to figure out that I really meant Zoë. Her silky, dark-chocolate hair was tied back in its fishtail braid, and her volcanic obsidian eyes lit up every time she smiled at something one of the Hunters said. She was leaning back in the chair she'd pulled up to the end of the table, her posture completely relaxed.

I kept studying her forlornly as I shoveled delicious pasta in my mouth. I hadn't seen her this happy or relaxed in… actually, I didn't think I'd _ever_ seen her like this. Sharing a casual, companionable dinner with her sisters in the Hunt seemed to bring out yet another side of her I had never observed, adding to the ones I knew: cold, aloof, angry Zoë, comforting, loyal, loving Zoë, and now carefree, happy, friendly Zoë.

We still hadn't gotten an opportunity to clear the air between us yet, and I really hoped it wouldn't be too long before that chance came. Every time I looked at her, my feelings threatened to just spill out of my helpless mouth, and I didn't know how much longer I could restrain myself. All this time spent having to distance myself from her so as not to arouse suspicion was really wearing on me, and it was getting worse the longer I had to do it.

When it appeared that everyone had finished, Chiron clapped his hands together once. The sound echoed over the dining pavilion, and everyone fell silent. Even the Hunters, I noticed appreciatively. "Has everyone finished their dinner?" Chiron inquired, sweeping his head over the mess hall. There were murmurs of assent. "Good. Now, we will be having a bonfire with s'mores in the amphitheater for another couple of hours. Normally, this event is entirely optional, but due to certain circumstances tonight, I ask that you all please attend. Thank you."

He dipped his head, then turned and galloped off to the amphitheater amongst confused mutterings. Not wanting to listen to the campers wondering why this bonfire was mandatory, I hurried along after him. As a result, I was the second one to arrive at the amphitheater. Chiron stood in the center, next to the already roaring bonfire (which was burning a steady orange), and I slid into the front row. We awaited the rest of the campers.

They shuffled in slowly, still whispering amongst themselves. Eventually, everyone had filed into a seat (though I noticed Mr. D hadn't bothered to come), and Chiron clapped his hands once more. Once again, the amphitheater fell silent. "Campers," Chiron announced. "I am sure you are wondering why I have asked for you all to be here." Everyone nodded and murmured their assent once again. "I would like to make several announcements tonight. To begin with, as you can all see, the Hunters are here visiting us. As such, our traditional friendly capture-the-flag game between Campers and Hunters will take place tomorrow night." A round of cheers went up, mostly from the Hunters. "Additionally, please join me in welcoming two new campers to our number: Nico di Angelo and Orion." Claps rang around the theater. "Mr. di Angelo is, as yet, unclaimed, so he will be remaining with the Hermes cabin for the time being. Mr. Orion, meanwhile…" He looked down and met my eyes. "Well, I believe he has something he wishes to address."

Hushed whispers circulated around the amphitheater as I stood from my front row seat and casually strode forward to stand next to Chiron. On the outside, I was the epitome of confident and collected, but on in the inside, my stomach was roiling. Before I began, I took a deep breath and searched out Zoë's obsidian orbs in the crowd. When I found them, they sparkled with determination, and she nodded at me to let me know she would support me if anything went wrong. I couldn't resist winking back at her.

Then I looked out over the rest of the campers. "Well, hello, everyone," I said, with much more cheeriness than I felt. "As Chiron has already said, my name is Orion. What he didn't say, and what I asked him to allow me to reveal on my own, was that unlike Nico here, I _do_ actually know my godly parent. It is my mother, and my mother is Artemis, Goddess of the Moon and Hunt."

The only sound that could be heard in the silence that ensued was the faint crackling of the fire beside me, but in that moment, it was louder than a jet engine. I decided to just press on before everyone had a chance to digest my words.

"There's just one little problem that I know you're all thinking right now: isn't Artemis one of the maiden goddesses? The answer is yes, yes she is – and she still is. Now hang on a minute…" I stroked my chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Isn't there another maiden goddess we know that has children here?" I pretended to think a bit longer, then I snapped my fingers. "Ah yes, that's right: Athena!" I rubbed my hands together. "Alright kiddos, it's time for Parthenogenesis 101. Who here knows how Athena's children are born?" I saw a couple hands go up, probably from Athena kids, but I ignored them. I was on a roll now. "Since I'm such a gentleman, I'll let you all know. When Athena falls in love with a mortal, her godly essence mixes with the mortal's life force and creates a child. However, the process can still take place in the absence of love. It is possible to happen… involuntarily and unknowingly."

My eyes drifted up to the silver crescent of the moon that hung above us, watching over me like a guardian angel. "My father, the original Orion, was deceived by the Titan Kronos decades ago into exacting revenge on Artemis, my mother, and her sister Apollo. He showed my father how to forcefully extract a piece of Artemis' essence and combine it with his own life force in order to create a child, which he then did. And that child…" My gaze dropped back down to the assembled teenagers and scanned over them, daring them to challenge me. "…is me," I finished.

Once again, there was utter silence. The person who ended up breaking it was none other than Zoë Nightshade.

She didn't say anything. She just got up from her seat among the Hunters and joined me up front, next to Chiron. As she stood there, I realized that cold, aloof Zoë was coming out, but thankfully not directed at me. I felt a little shiver of satisfaction as I realized it was _on behalf of_ me. With the silver circlet in her hair and her features formed up into her most proud expression, I thought she looked more like royalty than ever before. "As many of you know, my name is Zoë Nightshade," she said authoritatively. "I am the lieutenant of the Hunt, the right hand of Artemis. If anyone doubts Orion's story, I can personally confirm that everything he has told you is the truth." She stared coldly and intently at the campers, as if she was trying to make eye contact with each and every one of them. "He has had a difficult life, but I'd be willing to bet that he is more honorable and courageous than any of you; I certainly trust him with my life. I have heard that this Camp accepts everyone, regardless of their parentage. Now is your chance to show that is true."

A hesitant clap began to rise, that I think may have been started by the Hunters. Soon, the campers joined in, until the amphitheater was filled with the ringing of their applause. I turned away from Zoë and quickly wiped my eyes. No way was I going to cry in front of everyone like this.

Chiron quieted everyone and cantered forward to lay his hand on my shoulder. Once the applause had died down completely, he smiled at Zoë. "Well said, Ms. Nightshade." Then, to the rest of the crowd, he said, "I, also, have it on good authority from both Lady Artemis and Lord Apollo themselves that Orion is indeed her son, and that he was, ah, conceived just as he described. He is as much a belonging member of this Camp as the rest of you, and I expect for him to be treated that way. Thank you." Then a huge smile broke onto his face. "Now that all of that is out of the way, let the sing-a-long begin!"

Just like that, the amphitheater erupted into action. I thanked Zoë quickly, but still didn't feel entirely comfortable sitting with the Hunters, so instead I went up and sat next to Percy. A couple of guys pulled instruments out from somewhere and made their way down to the front of the stage and began playing, and the sing-a-long began.

I wasn't usually much of a fan of social events like this, as you know, but I will freely admit I had a wonderful time at the bonfire.

Now that the pressure of concealing my identity was off my shoulders and the truth was out, I felt more relaxed than I had in ages. Percy and his friends didn't seem to change their opinion of me, even now that they knew I was Artemis' son. I participated in the conversations they were having, and found that I actually really enjoyed talking and spending time with them. I even tried to join in on some of the songs, even though I didn't know any of the words.

Because we had spent so long talking (oops), we only had time for a few more songs before Chiron declared the bonfire over and ordered everyone back to their cabins for the night. I bid farewell to my new friends, quickly asked Chiron if it was okay for me to stay in Cabin Eight (which of course, he said it was), then followed the Hunters across the creek to the cabins.

Artemis' cabin was entirely plain silver on the outside, unsurprisingly, and glowed, as if reflecting the soft light of the crescent moon above. The walls on the inside were decorated with carvings of wild animals. The building smelled like fresh forest and pine and everything I loved about the wild.

I found a bed way in the back, out of the way of the Hunters, and dropped into it, not even bothering to strip out of my clothes (not that I really wanted to in a room full of only man-hating teenage girls). The Hunters followed suit, and after a few minutes, the cabin resonated with the sound of soft, steady breathing – and the occasional snore.

As physically drained as I was from everything that had gone on lately, my mind refused to shut down. I fought it for a few hours, but eventually gave up. I slowly got out of my bed and headed towards the nearest window, being inordinately careful to step over any sleeping Hunters on the way.

I opened the window noiselessly and nimbly leaped up onto the sill before sliding outside. I climbed up the outside wall and hauled myself up onto the roof. It was plain silver, like the rest of the building, and flat. I laid myself down with my hands folded over my chest and closed my eyes peacefully.

It was like being in another world. I always liked being outdoors and gazing up at the stars, and even though I knew the roof was only a dozen feet or so off the ground, the added height also made me feel closer to the moon. I tried to relax, but my troubled thoughts kept turning to what my future might be like here at Camp.

I thought I heard a creak from below, in the vague direction of the window. I frowned. Who would possibly still be up at this hour?

Then the face of Zoë Nightshade appeared over the edge of the roof. I had to resist smiling stupidly. What better time to have a profound conversation about our feelings for each other than on the roof of a cabin in the middle of the night? She padded over and dropped down onto her back next to me. Her left shoulder was brushing up against my right.

For minutes, neither of us said anything. Then Zoë commented: "That was a very brave thing you did tonight."

This time I did smile. "I could say the same to you," I pointed out. "Did you really mean everything you said up there?"

I thought she might have flushed. "Of course," she said quietly.

"Oh good," I whispered, mocking relief. "I thought I was the only one entranced by this ridiculous and impossible attraction."

Zoë didn't respond immediately, and I was afraid I'd been too eager to address the awkward topic, especially in such a casual way. Then she shifted, and I heard her take a deep breath. "Listen, Orion," she said. "I'm not… I'm not too good at talking about my feelings. I haven't really had to deal with this kind of thing before, so I am not very experienced with this. But the truth is, I… I think I feel the same way."

My heart seemed to skip a beat.

But she wasn't done yet. "Perhaps it sounds cliché, but watching you lying there in that cave, dying and being unable to help you…" I felt her shudder through our connected shoulders. "It made me realize that despite the short time we have spent together, I could scarcely imagine what it would be like never to see you again. You made an impact on me, Orion. You became the first male to earn my respect, and… my love."

The final word was spoken like she was realizing the truth of it for the first time, so softly it was barely audible. But I'd heard it nonetheless, and it made my heart soar. My father was right!

"Zoë," I murmured quietly. My head was spinning with excitement, but I did my best to come up with a suitable response. I didn't want to blow this chance. "You know, in the beginning, I thought traveling with you was going to be a nightmare." I chuckled. "I couldn't stand you. I thought you were the most callous, condescending person I'd ever met. Then after I saved your life, you started actually treating me with respect, and I started to see the side of you that you only showed to the Hunters. Then there was everything that happened in Krios' palace, and the cave… Can I tell you something that I haven't revealed to anyone else?"

She gave me an encouraging smile. "Of course."

"You probably wondered what I found in that silver chest, didn't you?"

"Orion, that's personal, you don't have to –"

"I know… but I want to." I smiled sadly as I stared off into the night. "It was a letter from my father." I heard a sharp intake of breath from beside me. "I know. I was shocked, too. But what he wrote to me was even more shocking."

"He said that Marethyu came to see him when he was dying, and that he allowed my father to see what the future would be like for me. Then he asked my father to give me certain information about it. One of the things that he said was that…" I swallowed. "It was that you loved me. He said you might not be ready to admit it yet, but that it was true. When I read that, it turned my whole world upside-down. It blew my mind."

"All my life, the only person who cared about me was Apollo, and that was only because I was his sister's son and he was responsible for watching over me. Then when I met Artemis, it was the same thing. They both loved me, yeah, but they're family; they're essentially obligated to love me. But you… you were the first person who _chose_ to love me. And learning that you cared about me like that gave me the most amazing feeling I've ever experienced."

My voice dropped to a whisper. "I think that was when I realized I had fallen hard for you."

Slowly, cautiously – as if I was reaching out to a lion that may or may not have been tamed – I let my hand slip down and make contact with Zoë's. She tensed at first. But once she realized what I was doing, she relaxed and allowed me to interlace our fingers. A few minutes later, a weight landed on my chest, and I realized she'd picked up her head and laid it on me. Her soft, dark-brown locks tickled the underside of my chin.

Lying there with her under the moonlight was serene. We just stayed where we were, reveling in our proximity and basking in the afterglow of our confessions to each other.

But too soon, it had to end. "As much as I want to," I sighed, "we can't stay up here all night."

Zoë grunted and removed her head from my chest (it felt remarkably empty without her there), propping herself up on her elbows. "I know," she said grudgingly. "The Hunters cannot know we are together."

"Is that what we are now?" I teased. "Together?"

She seemed to realize what she'd said, and her eyes widened. My smile melted, and I moved forward and embraced her. "Hey," I whispered softly. "I know this is going to be hard. We probably can't tell anyone. But isn't it worth it?"

At my words, she seemed to calm down a bit, I could tell she was still uneasy. "Yes," she answered immediately. "It's just…" She looked down. "I'm now breaking the vow. The Hunter's vow." She looked back up at my eyes. "When Artemis finds out, I'll be kicked out of the Hunters."

To my surprise, I saw her volcanic eyes begin to fill with tears. It suddenly occurred to me how huge of a step this was for her. The Hunters had been her family for millennia. They were her sisters and Artemis her mother in all but blood, and she was risking all of that for me. What if she lost it because of me? Could I live with the guilt of that?

My arms tightened around her. "Well, then I guess we'll just have to make sure Artemis doesn't find out," I promised. I cupped her cheek with my hand and used my thumb to brush away the only tear that had spilled over onto her face. Then before I could think about what I was doing, I leaned forward and kissed her.

At first, she was tense and rigid, caught by surprise, and I immediately regretted my impulsive decision. But right as I was about to pull away and apologize, her hand captured the back of my neck and held me against her as she kissed me back.

Both of us inexperienced, our kiss was unbelievably sloppy and not really at all romantic. But it was with each other, and that was all that mattered. Zoë's lips were so soft as they moved against mine, and I knew that if our eyes had been open, I would've been lost in her obsidian pools forever.

The kiss could have lasted seconds, or it could have been hours. But finally we both pulled away, and I couldn't stop a carefree laugh from escaping my throat. She smiled back at me, and I found out that I was right: her eyes sucked me in like a black hole. "I doubt I need to say it at this point," I whispered, "but I'm playing on the Hunters' team for capture-the-flag tomorrow night."

Zoë grinned and snorted. "You better be," she said, and with our hands intertwined again, we both climbed back down through the window and into Cabin Eight.

Moments later, I relaxed in my bed with my eyes shut tight, and I finally felt sleep overtaking me. As I quickly drifted into dreamland, I couldn't wipe the silly grin off my face.

Maybe the future wouldn't be too bad after all.


	11. Chapter 11: A New Journey

**As I've continued with this story, I've started to get the feeling that my chapters really don't need to be 6-8k words. If guys want, I can go back and split what I've already uploaded into smaller chapters, and start writing in smaller chapters from here on out. If you think the story is fine the way it is, though, then I won't bother.**

 **So what do you guys think? Let me know in the reviews, and fav and follow as always! Enjoy :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 11: A New Journey

The next morning, I woke up to a completely empty Cabin Eight. I rubbed my eyes sleepily, noting through the window that the sun had already climbed into the middle of the sky. I must have overslept… oops.

All at once, the events of last night brought themselves to the foreground of my mind, and I couldn't stop myself from grinning. Zoë and I had finally admitted our feelings to each other, and I couldn't have been more giddy.

Not at all tired anymore (due to my residual excitement), I slid out of my bed and headed to the door. Even though I'd probably missed breakfast and lunch, I wasn't that hungry, so I decided I'd go back down to the arena and get in one more last-minute training session before the capture-the-flag game tonight.

When I got to the arena, it seemed like the Hunters had had a similar idea. The section with the archery range was overrun with silver-clad teenage girls. I didn't really think they needed the practice, honestly, but they were prideful and competitive, and I knew they wanted to smash the campers tonight. According to Chiron, the Hunters had beaten them fifty-five times in a row.

As I wandered over to the straw dummies, I noticed the three guys from yesterday were sparring together again. The dirty blond was trying to fight one-versus-two against the short kid and the blue-eyed one. He was doing okay, but I noticed that all three of them looked sloppy and awkward, as if sword-fighting didn't come naturally to them.

I turned away from them, summoned my sword, and launched into a routine, slashing and hacking and weaving through the dummies. As always, I imagined that they were real enemies fighting back, dodging imaginary sword strokes and parries. Just like last time, the three other demigods stopped their little skirmish to observe my practice.

Once the dummies had been torn to shreds, I lowered my katana, breathing heavily. I walked over to the open drink cooler and grabbed a bottle of red Gatorade, downing it eagerly. As I was drinking, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the three kids were approaching me.

The guy with the gray eyes and dirty blond hair held out his hand, which I grasped strongly. "Hey, I'm Malcolm Pace," he introduced. "Son of Athena." He gestured to the other two guys, first the one with blue eyes and golden hair and then the short one with brown hair and the permanent scowl. "These guys are Will Solace and Michael Yew, sons of Apollo."

I smiled and shook both of their hands, too. "Orion," I said simply.

"Son of Artemis," Will completed. "We know."

I thought that was a little weird, until I flashed back to the bonfire last night. "Ah, right. Of course you do." I shrugged and turned to head back for another round. "Nice meeting you all!" I called over my shoulder.

"Hey, wait!" Malcolm called. I stopped and turned back to them. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Um, we were watching you practice and, well…"

"We're not really very good at close combat fighting," Michael chimed in. "Malcolm is an amazing strategist, and Will and I are expert marksmen, but none of us are that good with a sword."

"I guess what we're trying to say," said Malcolm, "is that we were wondering if you could, um, maybe give us some tips?"

I considered them for a moment, taking in their hopeful expressions, and shrugged again. "Okay," I acquiesced. "But you have to do exactly as I tell you, alright?" They nodded eagerly. "Then let's get to work."

For the next few hours, I instructed Malcolm, Michael, and Will in everything I knew about swordplay. Even though they claimed not to have much skill, they were quick learners, possibly due to their natural inclination as demigods to be adept at fighting. They listened avidly to everything I told them and showed them, and were usually able to replicate each move after only a few tries.

Finally, I noticed they were starting to tire, and I called a halt. "Nice work, you guys," I complimented them. "You've earned a water break."

Once again, I strode over to the cooler and picked out three water bottles and another red Gatorade. I tossed a water to each of the guys, then sat down on a bench next to the cooler. Michael and the others soon joined me.

"If you haven't been to Camp Half-Blood before, how'd you learn to fight like that?" Malcolm asked at one point. "You're better than almost everyone here, except maybe Percy or Thalia or Clarisse."

I sipped my Gatorade. "I mostly taught myself, but I had a little help from someone named Fred." I smiled to myself at Apollo's stupid incognito disguise. "Being a son of the goddess of the Hunt helps a bit, too." They nodded, accepting my answer, but I had a feeling they weren't done with the questions. I was right.

"What _did_ you do before you came here?" said Michael. "It's amazing that you managed to survive in the wild as a demigod for fifteen years on your own."

I shifted uncomfortably; I didn't really like talking about my past. "I wasn't exactly on my own. Like I said, I had help; a hermit named Fred raised me and protected me for most of my life."

Fortunately, Will seemed to sense my discomfort, and muttered something to the other two. They stopped pestering me with probing questions after that. I didn't want to be antisocial, so I tried to strike up a conversation by asking about what kind of stuff there is to do here at Camp (even though I knew a lot of it already).

To my pleasant surprise, the three demigods actually turned out to be incredibly easy to talk to. Just like with Percy and his friends, they didn't seem to care about the strange circumstances of my birth or the fact that I was the son of a goddess who wasn't supposed to have children. They treated me just like any other demigod, and I was extremely grateful for that.

As we were all in the midst of snickering at joke Michael had just told involving a donkey and a piñata (don't ask), I noticed Zoë walking purposefully towards us with an anxious expression on her face. That wasn't good; when Zoë was visibly worried about something, it was usually a big deal.

She stopped a foot in front of me, casting a shadow over me in the evening sun. Michael, Malcolm, and Will gazed up at her somewhat fearfully. "There you are, Orion," she said, sounding relieved, but the concern didn't leave her face. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course," I replied immediately. "I'll be right back, guys." Then I regarded Zoë's expression again and paused. "On second thought, nevermind. I'll see you for capture-the-flag. Good luck." They thanked me for helping them with their swordplay and wished me luck for the game later, too. I could feel their eyes on our backs as I followed Zoë out of the arena.

She walked quickly, heading towards the woods. She led me deep into the forest, and I assumed that whatever it was she wanted to talk about, she didn't want anyone else hearing about it. Finally, she stopped in front of a large pile of rocks and climbed up to the top, patting the space next to her. I joined her momentarily, peering out of the slowly darkening woods.

Once we were both seated, Zoë didn't bother with any small talk. "After we went back inside last night," she said, a slight flush blossoming on her copper cheeks, "I had a dream. It was about Lady Artemis." She paused, and I gestured for her to continue. "I sensed she was in danger. I talked to Chiron about it as soon as I woke up, asking for permission to search for her, but he refused. He said that Artemis had instructed us to wait here until we received further orders." She looked at me helplessly. "But how are we supposed to receive orders from Artemis if Artemis is lost?"

A chill ran down my spine. I turned sharply at stared at her. "Lost," I repeated disbelievingly. "As in… kidnapped? Captured?"

Zoë nodded dejectedly. "Yes."

I took a moment to digest that. A goddess… kidnapped? Was that even possible? I wasn't sure, but if she had been distracted on her solo mission, I supposed it stood to reason that she could have been led into a trap. "What should we do, then?"

"I do not know," Zoë said miserably. "That is why I sought your opinion."

I sighed. "Unfortunately, Chiron is right. We can't just go off searching for her. We have no idea where to even start. Plus…" I hesitated. "It's not that I don't believe you, but we don't even know for sure that anything has happened to her. Maybe we should just wait and see what happens."

After a moment, Zoë slumped against me and laid her head on my shoulder. "You're right," she said softly. "I suppose for now, there is nothing we can do." I wrapped an arm around her, and we stayed comfortably in that position until the sound of the conch horn blared out across the Camp, signaling dinner.

"We should probably go," I suggested. Zoë nodded, and we began to climb down from the pile of boulders. "Maybe dinner and capture-the-flag will help take our minds off of it, anyway."

I couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

Now that I had revealed my identity to the Camp, I didn't feel the least bit embarrassed to join the Artemis table at dinner. Once again, Zoë had set up a chair at the head of the table, but this time, I sat at her right hand. Bianca di Angelo was next to me on my right, and the redhead Phoebe sat across from me, at Zoë's left.

I decided to go for something a little more modest tonight, so I ordered a toasted ham and swiss sandwich, a banana, and some sour-cream-and-cheddar chips. I deposited a little bit of each into the brazier for Artemis, praying that she was alright and that Zoë's mysterious dream didn't mean anything.

When I sat back down, the conversation was subdued. Phoebe didn't seem all that interested in talking to me, choosing instead to engage with a blond girl to her left, but Zoë and Bianca spent the entire meal chatting with me. I loved getting to spend time with Zoë like this without drawing any strange looks, even if we were in the presence of the other Hunters. I still got to talk to her, and that was all I cared about.

Bianca, meanwhile, was just as outgoing and easy to talk to as anyone else I'd met at Camp. Since she joined the Hunters, she'd abandoned her floppy green cap and now wore her dark brown hair in the same fishtail braid as the rest of the girls, and she seemed to have a lot more confidence than she did at the cliff where we'd rescued her and her brother.

Unfortunately, as much as we all wanted to think that Zoë's dream wasn't true, the looming possibility that Artemis might be in danger put a damper on the table's mood. Throughout the dinner, the Hunters were nowhere near as raucous and upbeat as they had been last night; instead, most spoke to each other in hushed whispers.

After the meal, Chiron clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention. Zoë kept glancing at him resentfully, apparently still miffed that he wouldn't let her leave Camp to search for her goddess. "Heroes!" the centaur called. "You may now arm yourselves and prepare for the battle. You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. Camp Half-Blood, the blue team, shall take the west woods, while the Hunters, the red team, take the east woods. Once both team are fully assembled in their respective properties, the conch horn will blow and the game will begin." He swept his eyes over everyone. "I will be serving as referee and battlefield medic. Please, no intentional maiming! We've had enough of that over the years," he grumbled in an undertone. "Good luck." Then he galloped off into the trees.

"Hunters, to me!" Zoë yelled, and together we marched off into the eastern end of the woods. As we walked, we formulated a plan.

"We have the advantage of stealth and speed in the woodlands," I reminded her. "We should use decoys."

"Yes," she agreed. "One guard at the flag, one party as a distraction, another as a fake distraction."

"While they chase after those groups, I can sneak in from behind and grab the flag," I finished. We grinned at each other. "Let's do this."

A few minutes later, the conch horn blew and the game began.

I immediately slipped off into the darkness, following the gurgling of the creek. When I reached the water, I climbed up into a tree on the bank and settled down to wait.

The plan seemed to be working. A group of Hunters chased some Campers through the trees in front of me, while another group pretended to be trying to sneak around to attack the flag. They were spotted and engaged upon.

I smiled. Time to go.

Like a living shadow, I slid down from my tree and dropped softly onto the ground, my boots making barely any sound on the snow-dusted dirt. I sprinted around the skirmish to my left, searching for where the flag might be hidden. I knew it had to be nearby because of the quick reaction from the Campers to our second decoy.

There! I snorted ironically. The flag was driven into the top of the same stack of boulders Zoë and I had climbed earlier to discuss her dream.

And there were no guards in sight.

 _Unbelievable_ , I thought to myself. I dashed nimbly up the pile and deftly yanked the flag out of the gap in the rocks. _This is all too easy_. I leaped down from the very top of the boulders and began sprinting through the woods, no longer bothering to disguise my presence.

It didn't matter anymore. I was in the woods, with the moon shining down on me; no one had any hope of catching me.

As I emerged from the trees and ran for the creek, Campers began to realize what was happening. They threw themselves in my way, trying to stop me or slow me down, but I dodged them or just bowled right through them.

When I was a few yards from the boundary line, I noticed Percy Jackson stumbling forward towards the creek from the opposite side, our flag clutched in his hands. I put on a little extra speed, but I really didn't need to; I was way too far ahead. I reached the creek and bounded back over it to our side of the woods, slamming into Percy in midair – just to show him who's boss.

Chiron cantered out of the woods with two Campers on his back, one of whom had two arrows stuck in his helmet like antennae and the other appeared to be unconscious. "The Hunters win!" the centaur announced in monotone. "For the fifty-sixth time in a row," he muttered.

"That's not fair!" someone yelled. "He's not even a Hunter!" Chiron just shrugged.

The Hunters cheered and surrounded me, offering congratulations and compliments. For the first time, I actually felt like a wanted member of their group, and it was the best feeling I'd experienced since I learned Zoë loved me.

In the midst of our celebrations, I heard a furious shout ring out over everyone: "Perseus Jackson!"

I extricated myself from the huddle of Hunters so I could see what was going on. Thalia was storming over towards Percy and, man, was she _angry_. Her eyes were blazing and her armor was flickering with little blue sparks, as if she might suddenly start shooting lightning in all directions. "What in Zeus' name were you THINKING?!" she bellowed at the son of Poseidon.

I crossed my arms and amusedly leaned against a nearby tree to watch the show.

"I got the flag, Thalia!" Percy said, shaking said object in her face. "I had a chance so I took it!"

"I WAS AT THEIR FREAKING BASE!" Thalia yelled back. "But the flag was GONE. If you had just LISTENED to what we AGREED on and stayed on DEFENSE, we would've WON."

"You had way too many on you!" he countered. "You never would have made it."

"So it's my fault, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it!" Thalia shoved Percy, and – whether intentionally or unintentionally – an electric shock sparked from her hands and sent him flying backwards into the creek. While the Campers looked dumbfounded, Zoë and I covered our mouths to avoid laughing out loud.

In retaliation, Percy summoned a wave from the creek that cascaded over the top of Thalia's head, dousing her from head to toe. Now sopping wet, her grip tightened on her spear.

The demigods continued to trade insults and examples of their powers until things began to get out of control. Percy raised his hands, and I swore the entire river swirled upwards into a huge funnel cloud of water. My amusement melted, and I started to grow genuinely worried.

But then something happened. I saw Percy's gaze flick to something over Thalia's shoulder, and all of a sudden, he released the water, dropping it back into the riverbed. Everyone turned to find what he was looking at.

An indistinct cloud of glowing green mist was floating towards the assembled campers and Hunters. As it got closer, everyone gasped. I frowned in confusion.

"Impossible," Chiron declared, but his voice quavered. That didn't bode well; anything that was enough to make Chiron nervous was not something I wanted to meet. "It… she has _never_ left the attic. Never." It? She? Attic? What in Hades was going on here?

I soon found out what he meant. Once the mist was close enough, I was able to discern the source: a withered mummy that shuffled forward to stand in the middle of everyone.

Everyone was utterly still. I still didn't really know what was happening, but I seemed to be the only one, and apparently, it was a big deal. Then suddenly, an ancient voice, unmistakably female, hissed in my head.

 _I am the spirit of Delphi_ , she said. _Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python_. The mummy turned to stare straight into the volcanic black eyes of Zoë Nightshade. _Approach, Seeker, and ask_.

I didn't think I'd ever seen Zoë so unnerved. She swallowed, but was able to croak out, "What must I do to help my goddess?"

The mummy's mouth opened, and, impossibly, more green mist flowed forth. It formed into the vague image of a dark mountain, with a girl standing at the peak. It was my mother, and sure enough, her wrists and ankles were wrapped in chains, embedded into the rock. She was kneeling, her hands raised above her head, and her face was contorted in a grimace of pain. My blood ran cold and my heart began to beat uncomfortably fast.

Then the mummy spoke again:

 _Five shall go west to the goddess in chains,_

 _One shall be lost in the land without rain,_

 _Campers and Hunters combined prevail,_

 _The bane of Olympus shows the trail,_

 _The Titan's curse must one embrace,_

 _And one shall perish in another's place._

The green mist suddenly retreated, as if sucked back into the mummy's mouth. It sat down on a nearby rock and became still, as if it had been there for a thousand years.

* * *

"I'm going," I declared, my tone brooking no argument.

I was sitting at a ping-pong table in the rec room of the Big House, along with Mr. D, Chiron (back in his magical wheelchair), Zoë, Bianca, and the head counselors of each cabin. This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind when Mr. D summoned a war council to discuss the prophecy, but hey; whatever works, I suppose.

"Please, Orion, calm down," Chiron said. "Let us discuss this in an orderly manner."

"We are wasting time," Zoë complained. "We all heard the prophecy; Artemis needs our help. We must leave immediately."

"And go where?" Chiron asked patiently.

"West!" I cried. "That much was pretty clear: _Five shall go west to the goddess in chains_."

"Indeed," Zoë agreed. "Orion and I will take three Hunters and go. She is being held hostage, and we must find her and free her."

"You're missing something, as usual," Thalia said. " _Campers and Hunters combined prevail_. Unfortunately, it looks like we have to do this together."

Zoë gritted her teeth.

"I fear the prophecy is quite clear in that regard, as well, Ms. Nightshade," Chiron pointed out. "You _do_ need our help. Campers and Hunters must cooperate."

"Or do they?" Mr. D mused in a bored tone. " _One shall be lost. One shall perish_. That sounds rather morbid, doesn't it? What if you fail _because_ you try to cooperate?"

God or not, I fixed him with an unamused glare.

"We're supposed to work together," Thalia reiterated. "I don't like it either, Zoë, but you know just as well as I do what happens when you try to go against prophecies."

"Fine," Zoë grumbled. "But who will go?"

Percy spoke for the first time. "Why not three and two?" Everyone turned to look at him, and he shifted under all the attention. "Well, we're supposed to have five. It's a quest for Artemis, so the Hunters should have the advantage, but keeping it as close to an even balance as possible. Three Hunters, two campers."

"The boy has a point," Zoë admitted grudgingly.

I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands over my chest. "If I haven't made it clear enough already, I'm going. She's my mother, and there's no way I'm going to sit here and do nothing while someone else goes off to save her." My glare made rounds around the table, daring anyone to challenge me. No one did.

Chiron nodded. "Well said, Orion, and I agree. That is one."

"But does he count as a camper or a Hunter?" a big African-American guy with a buzz cut asked.

"It doesn't matter," I said dismissively. "Both. If anything, I'm the epitome of cooperation between campers and Hunters."

"Even though the Hunters consider him a close companion, he is not technically a member," Zoë said. "So I suppose that would make him a camper." I shrugged. That was fine by me.

"Then why did he get to play with the Hunters for capture-the-flag last night?" the Hermes kid – I think his name was Travis – muttered angrily.

"Don't worry about it," I replied, and after I glared at him, he shut up.

"Very well," said Chiron. "Then which two Hunters would you prefer to take with you – since I assume you are going as well?"

"Of course," Zoë scoffed. "Bianca and Phoebe will accompany me."

Bianca looked up, startled. "M-me? But… I've never done this kind of thing before!"

"Which is all the more reason for you to start now," Zoë assured her. "There is no better way to prove yourself."

Bianca seemed to accept that, but she still looked concerned. I knew all about self-doubt issues, so I thought maybe I'd talk to her later to make sure she was handling everything okay.

"And the last member?" Chiron asked. "The second camper?"

"I'll go," Thalia offered.

Percy suddenly sat forward. "Wait," he said. "Hang on a second. I want to go, too."

"You cannot," Zoë said. "You are a boy. I will not travel with a boy."

"Orion is a boy," Percy pointed out.

Zoë's eyes narrowed. "No – Orion is a man." Her gaze flicked over to me. "Besides, that is different. He is Lady Artemis' son." I heard what she didn't say clear as day, and I smiled to myself: _And I am in love with him_.

"But I _have_ to go," Percy insisted. "I need to be on this quest."

"Because of your friend Annabeth?" Zoë challenged.

The son of Poseidon blushed. "No! I just… I feel like I'm supposed to go on this quest."

"No," Zoë said with finality. "Orion is a special case; I will travel with him, but no other male."

Chiron looked at Percy sadly and sighed. "It is Zoë's quest. She holds the final say in the choosing of her companions."

Percy sat down, his ears bright red, and didn't meet anyone's eyes. I honestly felt a little bad for him, but there was no way I was going to let someone make me sit this out.

"So be it," Chiron announced. "Orion and Thalia will accompany Zoë, Bianca, and Phoebe. You shall leave at first light – and may the gods be with you."

Everyone filed out of the farmhouse. Zoë, Bianca, Phoebe and I walked back to Cabin Eight together. I jerked my head at Percy, who was trudging dejectedly back to the Poseidon Cabin. "I'm worried about him," I said. Zoë snorted. I rolled my eyes. "Not like that… I'm worried that he'll do something stupid," I clarified.

"What, like sneak out of Camp and follow us?" Phoebe said, her sarcasm clear.

"Yes," I said flatly.

"It doesn't matter," Zoë said. "The boy is insignificant. We have enough to worry about right now." We reached the Cabin and ducked inside. "I want us all ready to leave at daybreak," Zoë ordered, looking around at each of us.

I nodded. "I will be." Bianca and Phoebe echoed my statement, and we walked off to our own beds. With the smoky green image of my mother chained to a mountain fresh on my mind, I was astonished I was able to get any sleep at all, but somehow, I managed to slip into unconsciousness.

The next morning, I was shaken awake by Zoë's hand on my shoulder. "Orion," she whispered.

I groaned groggily.

"Wake up," Zoë said, louder this time.

I forced myself awake and dug the sleep out of my eyes. "Is it time to go?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied shortly. "You have five minutes." With that, she left me alone.

I groaned again and sat up. I hurriedly stripped out of my outfit and put on a clean one of the same design: a long-sleeve black nylon shirt with a silver crescent moon embroidered on the left chest, black pants with silver trim, and black combat boots. Zoë had also gifted me a silver Hunter parka for the quest, so I shrugged that on last.

I located my pack underneath my bed and checked through it to make sure everything was still there. My nectar and ambrosia was there, as was my first-aid kit and pair of silver daggers. There was a cash bag, too, filled with both American bills and golden drachmas. A set of spare clothes was buried at the bottom. I nodded to myself, satisfied, and shouldered my pack. I took one last glance around the inside of the cabin, then turned away and walked outside.

Zoë, Bianca, and Thalia were waiting for me at the edge of the village of cabins. In silence, we trudged across the camp to the large hill with the pine tree. After a minute, I realized that our number was one fewer than planned.

"Wait a second," I said. "Where's Phoebe?"

Zoë scowled. "Those two idiotic brothers from the Hermes cabin tricked her into wearing a shirt sprayed with centaur blood."

"And?"

"Centaur blood is like acid. She'll be bedridden for weeks."

Half-Blood Hill loomed closer. I took the information in shocked silence. "So who's going to be our fifth member?"

"No one," Thalia said. "It's just us."

"But the prophecy –"

"I know what the prophecy said," Zoë grumbled. "But it's too late to choose another camper, and I'm not going to risk another Hunter. Besides, Camp Half-Blood's borders are enchanted to protect it from weather; technically, it could be considered a land without rain."

I was pretty sure she didn't even believe her own argument, but I wasn't about to point that out. The idea of continuing the quest with only four members when the prophecy very clearly dictated five didn't sit well with me at all, but as Zoë pointed out, it was too late to change that now. We'd just have to press on and hope nothing too bad happened.

We crested the hill, and I saw a white van labeled _Delphi Strawberries_ parked at the bottom. "That's our transportation?" I asked dubiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Only as far as D.C.," said Thalia. "We can catch a train west from there."

We marched down the hill and walked up to the van. "So," I said. "Who knows how to drive?"

Zoë and Thalia looked at each other. "I'll drive," they said simultaneously, then glared at each other.

The daughter of Zeus crossed arms. "You're going to get us arrested if you drive," she argued. "I look closer to sixteen than you do."

Zoë's eyes narrowed. "This is my quest," she asserted. "I will drive." And with that, she stepped around the van and climbed into the driver's seat.

We determined the rest of the seating arrangement based on who would be least likely to kill each other. I sat up front in the passenger seat, next to Zoë, while Thalia and Bianca occupied the back row. Once everyone was settled, Zoë started the vehicle, and our quest was underway.

I had no idea someone who was two millennia old could have such a lead foot.

Zoë drove south like a crazy person, pulling on to the highway and never slowing down. The van was silent the whole trip and somewhat tense, all the way until we reached Washington, D.C. Zoë had done some sort of tracking spell with acorns before we left that directed us towards the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. So, once we parked the van in an open space, we disembarked and headed into the facility.

The large, open lobby area was sparsely populated, which made sense for midday on a Monday in early December. Models of rocket ships and airplanes were suspended on wires from the ceiling. The air smelled abnormally clean, like a military facility or a hospital.

"So," I began, "What are we looking for?"

Zoë shrugged helplessly. "Truthfully, I do not know. But the acorns pointed here for a reason. We should split up and search the building."

"Sounds good to me."

But then, right as we were about to initiate our divide-and-conquer strategy, someone slammed into Thalia from behind. "What the Hades?!" she exclaimed.

Instantly, Bianca, Zoë, and I had our bows drawn and nocked. Three arrows pointed at the person groaning on the ground next the daughter of Zeus. I frowned; I recognized that mop of messy black hair.

"…Percy?" I said. "What in the world are you doing here?"

"No time!" he gasped out. "Luke is here!"

Thalia's anger dissipated. "What? Where?"

"It… he… the Museum," Percy stammered.

"Slow down, boy," Zoë snapped. "Explain yourself."

Percy took a few slow breaths to calm himself. Then he launched into an account of using a magical cap of invisibility to spy on a bunch of evil baddies growing skeleton warriors out of the ground in the Natural History Museum, led by a demigod named Luke and someone named the General.

To me, it made about as much sense as one of Apollo's limericks, but Zoë's reaction was instantaneous. Her face paled, and her grip tightened on her bow until her knuckles turned white. "You lie!" she spat. "The General cannot be here."

"Why would I lie?" Percy shot back. "Look, we don't have much time. He said he was going to send some 'playmate' or something to distract us until the skeleton warriors get here. A monster of some kind."

I glanced at Zoë. "The tracking spell," I said. "That monster could have been what drew us here."

"Um, I hate to be the one to point this out," Bianca said nervously. "But Zoë, if it _is_ the General…"

"It cannot be," the lieutenant insisted. "It must have been an Iris-message or some other type of illusion."

"Illusions don't crack marble floors jumping from balconies," Percy pointed out.

I looked over at Zoë again, observing her closer this time. She looked shaken, which was not a state I was used to seeing her in. She was still clutching her bow so tightly I was pretty sure it would've snapped if it wasn't enchanted, and she was trying to calm herself with controlled breaths. If just the possibility of this General guy being in the vicinity was causing her to act like this… I made a mental note to talk to her the next time I got the chance. If we were truly going to be serious about this relationship thing, hopefully she would tell me what was bothering her.

Eventually, she collected herself enough to speak. "I am still not sure I can believe that the General is here. However, if at least the part of Percy's story regarding the skeleton warriors is true, we have no more time to waste. If they are what I think they are, I have encountered them before, and they are some of the most horrible, fearsome monsters of this age. We must leave now."

"Sounds good to me," said Percy.

"I was not including _you_ , boy," Zoë said, scowling. "You are not supposed to be here; you are not a part of this quest."

"You can't be serious!" he said. "I'm trying to save your lives, and you're just going to abandon me?"

"He's right," Thalia interjected.

"Thank you!"

"Shut up, Percy. Zoë's right, too. You shouldn't be here. Unfortunately, you are, so we might as well take you with us. Come on; let's get back to the van."

I raised an eyebrow. "Hold on. Isn't Zoë the leader of this quest? Do I not recall Chiron saying she had the final say in deciding our companions?"

"If you haven't noticed, adding Percy to the quest puts our number back to five," Thalia argued. "Just like the prophecy says."

I hesitated. As much as I wanted to agree with Zoë, Thalia did have a point. If Percy truly was meant to be the fifth and final member of the quest, trying to ignore a prophecy could have disastrous consequences.

Zoë wasn't swayed at all, though. "You always were blinded when it came to boys," she snarled. "You never could leave them behind!"

It sounded like there was a lot more behind that comment than met the eyes. I didn't know the full story, but I suspected it had something to do with the reason the two girls hated each other. Thalia's electric blue eyes sparked murderously. She took an aggressive step forward, and if she hadn't been interrupted, the two might have ended up destroying the entire museum.

Fortunately, though (well, not really, but you know what I mean), a low yet deafening growl sounded from somewhere behind us. The voice of a small child happily cried, "Look, Mom! Kitty!"

I turned. Prowling the floor of the Air and Space Museum foyer was a gigantic lion – and when I say gigantic, what I mean is that it was bigger than the van in which we'd traveled here. In fact, it was about the size of a Humvee, many times larger than your everyday lion. Its silver claws gleamed dangerously, its golden fur shimmering in the – wait, shimmering? Since when did lion fur shimmer?

"Um, why does that thing look like it's made of metal?" I asked, nocking an arrow to my bow.

"Because it is," Thalia said grimly. "That's the Nemean Lion."

I froze. "As in, the one that H –"

"Yes, that one," Zoë cut me off quickly. I sent her a questioning look, and she responded with one that clearly read, _Not now._

The lion roared, reminding us where our focus needed to be directed. I thought I felt something in my ear pop, and I winced. I didn't know it was even possible for something living to produce a noise like that.

"We should separate, keep its attention diverted," Zoë said, leaving her eyes locked on the lion.

"What good will that do?" asked Bianca.

"It can't eat all of us if we're spread out," I offered helpfully. I was about to add more, but I saw the lion's back legs tense, and instead, I shouted, "Scatter!"

The lion pounced.

If you've never faced the threat of a several-ton mythical lion leaping at your face, consider yourself lucky; few things in this world are as terrifying.

We all threw ourselves in opposite directions, and the lion landed where Thalia had been standing a second earlier. I rolled to my feet and quickly fired an arrow, but it shattered against the lion's fur. It turned to me and snarled, drool dripping from its jaws, and prepared to pounce again.

"Hey!" Percy yelled. Like the idiot he was, he sprinted towards the monster and slashed his sword across its side. It was a good strike, but predictably, had no effect on the monster other than throwing up a shower of sparks that rained down around Percy. On the plus side, I was no longer the next chew toy target.

The downside? Percy was.

The lion turned again, with speed I wouldn't have imagined possible from a creature so large, and swiped an oversized paw at him. It narrowly missed catching him straight on, but the lion's claws made contact with his coat, ripping off one of the sleeves. Percy scrambled backwards, towards the gift shop.

In an effort to distract the beast from the stunned son of Poseidon, Thalia charged forward, wielding her terrible shield engraved with the head of Medusa. Amazingly, the lion hesitated slightly at the sight of the shield. It bellowed its frustration, the sound surpassing the roar of a rocket launch. But it didn't take long to get over its fear.

It swung another paw at Thalia, and she knocked it aside with her shield. Zoë, Bianca, and I tried to do as much as we could from range, but none of our weapons could do anything more than irritate the beast. To be completely honest, I wasn't even sure we were doing _that_ much.

"We can't keep this up!" I shouted to Zoë. "Especially if this isn't even the main attraction!"

"I agree!" she yelled back. "But our van cannot outrun the lion! We have to deal with it before we can leave!"

I gritted my teeth. She was right. But how could we "deal with" a monster with impenetrable fur?

The answer came from the most unlikely of sources: Percy. I had dismissed him from my mind to focus on helping Thalia, but the black-haired demigod now sprinted back into the fray carrying little silvery packets of something in his arms.

"Hey, fur-face!" he shouted. The lion turned and roared at him. His hair parted down the middle like in a cartoon, but he somehow managed to keep his composure. He grabbed one of the silver packets and pitched it into the lion's open maw.

I instantly cottoned on to his strategy. I had to admit, it was brilliantly simple; if its fur is indestructible, find a way to bypass the fur. I formed two arrows and nocked them both on the string, one above my finger and the other below, and waited.

While the lion's eyes bugged out as it tried to deal with the unplanned intrusion into its mouth without choking, Percy kept throwing more and more of the strange packets into the slowly growing opening. After three or four more, the lion's mouth was open about as wide as it could go, its tongue hanging out as it gagged. "Now!" Percy directed. "Hit the mouth!"

I let my arrows fly. Not a second later, Zoë and Bianca did the same. Thalia even chucked her spear for good measure.

Our arrows met their mark with deadly accuracy. Half a dozen silver shafts were suddenly embedded in the lion's throat (Thalia's spear missed), and after one surprised grunt, it keeled over backwards, dead.

For a moment, nothing moved. My racing heart slowly settled back to normal.

The five of us gathered around the lion's corpse. As we watched, it melted into the ground, leaving behind a golden pelt of fur the size of a small rug.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Spoils of war… the lion's coat," Thalia answered admiringly.

Percy walked over to the pelt and picked it up, grunting under the weight. He offered it to Zoë. To my surprise, she shook her head. Percy frowned. "You should take it," he said. "You killed the lion."

She forced a tight smile. "No, Perseus, I believe it was your ice cream sandwich that did that. Go ahead, keep it."

Percy still seemed uneasy. "I don't feel right taking it," he admitted. "But it's also too valuable to leave behind."

An idea suddenly occurred to me. "Can I have it?"

"Orion…" Zoë said.

"Just trust me."

Percy glanced between us for a second, then shrugged and handed me the pelt. I nearly dropped it in surprise; it really _was_ heavy (I thought Percy was just being melodramatic). "Does anyone happen to have a lighter?" I asked. Thalia wordlessly pulled one out and handed it to me. "Thank you." I carried the pelt over to a trash can, then flicked the lighter on and tossed it inside. I wasn't even sure it was going to work at first, but the gods must have known what I wanted to do and been on my side, because a small fire flared up shortly. I laid the pelt down inside the can and murmured, "This is for you, Mother. Stay strong; we're coming."

The pelt dissolved into silver smoke. The fire winked out.

As I walked back over to the group, Zoë watched me, her expression full of pride and affection. I shot her a smile back.

Thalia looked at both of us strangely, then cleared her throat. "Glad we've got that taken care of," she said. "Now –"

"Uh, guys…" Bianca interrupted. "We've got company." She pointed out the door.

Across the National Mall, the doors of the Natural History Museum were opening. Twelve men in gray military uniforms with sickly gray flesh marched out, heading straight for our location.

" _Spartoi_ ," Zoë growled. "Exactly what I was afraid of. Now we _really_ must leave."

Percy took a deep breath and drew his sword. "They ripped a part of my coat; it's my scent they're after. If I can lead them away, you guys can escape and find Artemis."

Zoë and I locked eyes, and I saw her come to a decision. She sighed. "No, foolish boy. You're coming with us."

Percy whipped around and stared at her incredulously. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come off it, mate," I said. "We're not going to let you run off and get yourself killed. As you pointed out, you _did_ just save our lives."

"Though I will never admit to saying this, Thalia may be right," Zoë said grudgingly. "It is likely you are meant to be the fifth member of our quest. And if that is the case, I will not tempt fate; we cannot leave you behind."

Percy looked floored, but we didn't have time to stand around with our mouths hanging open. "Come on kids, time to go," I said, ushering Bianca and the still-stunned Percy through the doors. Thalia and Zoë followed quickly behind.

Together, we dashed off across the Mall, in the opposite direction of the _spartoi_. In the midst of our escape attempt, I heard the familiar sound of helicopter blades and looked up. I cursed. A military gunship, like the one Artemis had destroyed in Maine, was hovering in the sky above the Mall, trailing us.

Thalia noticed it, too. "We can't go back to the van," she said. "It'll be too easy to track from the air."

"Do we have any other options?" I replied.

"The subway," Bianca suggested. "They won't be able to see us from the chopper, and we can change trains without them knowing where we're going." She looked around, squinting, as if trying to get her bearings. "I think there's a station pretty close to here."

I glanced up at the chopper. "Sounds good to me… but let's hurry. I don't know if these guys would be crazy enough to start firing on us in the middle of downtown D.C., but I'd rather not stick around to find out."


	12. Chapter 12: Lost

**Well, no one reviewed to say whether they wanted shorter chapters or not, so I'm just gonna keep doing what I'm doing.**

 **Enjoy this chapter; fair warning, it's about 70% dialogue haha. Fav/follow/review as always!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Lost

We switched trains four times before we felt confident that we'd lost the helicopter. I came up with the brilliant idea of selecting them at random; after all, if we didn't even know where we were going, how could our enemies? On the bright side, the idea achieved its purpose of helping us evade the chopper and the _spartoi_.

On the downside, we ended up at the end of the subway line in some dinky rail yard in the middle of nowhere. A bunch of industrial train cars were parked in seemingly random arrangements. My breath condensed in front of my face, and I noticed that the temperature here felt about twenty degrees cooler than it had in the city. The whole place was covered in snow, but fortunately, it wasn't precipitating any longer. That didn't stop the chill from seeping into our bones, though.

"G-g-g-great," Thalia grumbled, shivering. "Just g-great. As if we didn't have enough p-problems without adding hypothermia and 'hopelessly lost' to the list."

I raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember you coming up with a better idea."

"Anything would have been better than this dump."

"Hey, we lost the chopper, didn't we? I don't see what you're complaining about."

She muttered something unsavory that I pretended to ignore and turned her back to me. I looked at Zoë and shrugged, like, _Some people, right?_ She just rolled her eyes.

We weaved our way through the parked freight cars and into a small clearing area in the center of a ring of trains. A homeless man was sitting on a tipped-over trash can, warming himself next to a fire he'd managed to set up inside the can's lid (I couldn't help but be reminded of my sacrifice to my mother). When he caught sight of us, he waved and smiled innocently at us. He was missing a few teeth.

"Y'all look pretty chilly," he said. "Come on over and get yourselves warmed up. I ain't gonna bite."

We were way too cold to think twice. Not wanting to let our butts touch the cold, wet ground, the five of us crouched down in a small semi-circle around the fire and tried to get some warmth back into our bodies.

"I can't feel my nose," Percy commented.

"Wonderful," Thalia replied dryly. "We're all cold, Percy; get over it."

Bianca rubbed her hands together. "We should try to contact camp. Maybe Chiron can –"

"No." I shook my head. "We can't risk it."

"Not only that," continued Zoë. "They would not be able to help us anyway. This is our quest; it is up to us to find a means to continue west."

The homeless man had been so quiet, I'd almost forgotten he was there, but now he spoke, surprising us all. "I ain't tryin' to butt into y'all's business, but if you're lookin' to go west, you might wanna try that." He pointed a crooked finger at something behind us, and we all turned.

It was a pristine orange freight train, somehow completely devoid of snow. It featured two decks of empty luxury cars, each one secured by a set of chains on the tires. The side of the train read _SUN WEST LINE_ in bold red-and-black lettering.

"Sweet," I said. "Thanks, friend." I turned to smile at the homeless man, but he had disappeared, along with his trash can seat and the burning lid.

"O-o-okay, that's weird," Bianca said nervously.

But the rest of us glanced at each other and shrugged. "You get used to it after a while," Percy answered. "Come on. Let's get on before it leaves without us."

Thalia claimed a dark-blue Lamborghini on the bottom level and, after a moment's hesitation, Percy joined her. I thought that was just asking for trouble, but I didn't say anything. I climbed with Bianca and Zoë to the upper deck, where the three of us slid into a shiny silver four-door Lexus.

Even though it was still the middle of the afternoon, Bianca laid down across the back row of seats and was asleep within minutes of our departure. Zoë had, of course, taken the driver's seat, so I was once again relegated to the passenger seat alongside her.

When we began moving, the countryside flew by in a blur of green and white. I had no idea how fast freight trains usually traveled, but I didn't think it was supposed to be this fast.

I pointed this out to Zoë, and she nodded absent-mindedly. "Something or some _one_ is speeding our progress," she said.

I frowned. "A god?"

"Most likely. Though Olympian or minor, I cannot say."

"I thought they weren't allowed to interfere in quests." As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how foolish it sounded. Since when did the gods ever follow the rules?

Zoë raised an eyebrow at me in wry amusement. "I can tell by the way you clamped your mouth shut at the end of that sentence that you've recognized its foolishness. Of course, they are not supposed to interfere, but that has never stopped them before. My most likely guess in this case would be Lord Apollo. As much as he and Lady Artemis bicker and argue, they do truly care for one another, and he would certainly be willing to go behind his father's back in order to help us save her."

That's when it dawned on me (ha, get it?). "Of course… 'Sun West Line,'" I said, shaking my head. "I guess that explains the homeless guy in the yard. I _knew_ he looked familiar!"

Zoë laughed quietly. "Indeed." We lapsed into a companionable silence.

I glanced back to make sure Bianca was still snoozing. When I saw that she was, I carefully slid over until I was sitting on the console separating the two front seats. Zoë observed my progress amusedly, curious what I was doing.

Fortunately, the particular Lexus model we were in (don't ask me which one, because I have absolutely no clue) had one of those collapsible consoles that can turn into another seat in the middle of the front row, between the driver and passenger. After a quick second of improvising, I managed to get the stupid thing set up into its chair position.

I scooted closer to Zoë and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her into me. A slight flush crept onto my cheeks. "Um, for warmth," I said lamely. I felt her body shaking in silent laughter, but she snuggled in closer to me and laid her head in my lap. I breathed in her forest-y scent and began to relax.

As I gently stroked my hands through her dark-brown locks, my thoughts turned to the events at the Air and Space Museum. I recalled Zoë's reaction when Percy had mentioned the General, and how utterly _afraid_ she looked. I wanted to make sure she was okay, but I still wasn't exactly sure how to approach something like this with her. She wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person I knew, and I was afraid she would try to push me away. Would she talk to me about it if I brought it up right now? It was worth a shot, at least.

I cleared my throat. "Hey, Zo…"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you s –"

"Hold on." She opened her eyes and rotated her head in my lap so she could stare at me balefully. "Did you just call me 'Zo'?"

"Uh… it depends. Would you be mad if I had?"

She considered for a moment. "Well…" I prepared for the worst. "No, I don't think so," she decided. I exhaled in relief. She closed her eyes again. "In fact, I rather like the sound of it," she whispered, and I grinned. "You may carry on. What were you saying?"

Ah, right; my question. I sobered abruptly and sighed. "I was in the middle of asking if I could ask you a question."

"You just did," she said, and I barely managed to stop myself from groaning aloud at the horrible cliché. When she realized that her poor attempt at a joke hadn't even elicited an eye roll, and that my face remained stoically serious, her humor melted. "Always, Orion," she said softly, squeezing my hand. "Ask away."

I took a deep breath. "Earlier at the museum, Percy mentioned the General and you kind of… I don't know, freaked out a bit." I felt her stiffen against me. "I know it makes you uncomfortable, so I'm not going to push to make you talk about it, but I _do_ want you to know that I'm here if you decide you want to." I tried to fill my voice with all the affection I felt for her. "You don't have to close yourself off anymore, Zoë. You have me now, and I can promise you I'm not going anywhere. I'm worried about you, though. I've never seen you that… well, frankly, that plain _scared_ before, and I want to know what's bothering you so I can try to help you. But, like I said," I added hurriedly, "I'm not going to pressure you to talk about it. So my question is just this: are you okay?"

Zoë didn't respond. I sat patiently, still stroking my hands comfortingly through her hair, intent on proving to her that I would wait for however long it took. And if she decided she didn't want to talk, I would accept that, too.

The Lexus was silent for ages. I began to wonder if the Hunter in my lap had fallen asleep. Then she shifted, and I heard a barely audible sigh. "I do not know, Orion," Zoë whispered, and it broke my heart to hear how uncharacteristically vulnerable she sounded. "I thought I had put my past behind me, but just when I think I am safe, something happens to remind me that I am not."

"Hey…" I moved my other hand down to rub her back. "You are safe; you're here with us. And I know what it's like to have a rough past. You can talk to me, Zoë."

She took a shuddering breath. "I know. But I have only ever told my full story to one other person."

"Artemis?" I guessed.

She nodded. "You wanted to know why I reacted so strongly to the presence of the General; I suppose that is as good a place to start as any." She closed her eyes and curled a little further into me. "The General is another name for the Titan Atlas, the leader of Kronos' forces during the First Titan War."

"Atlas…" I wracked my brain quickly. "Isn't he the guy who holds up the sky?"

Zoë grimaced. "Yes. And… he is also my father," she finished quietly.

I nodded distractedly, still mentally reviewing what I knew of Atlas. Then the meaning of her statement crashed into me like a tidal wave. "Wait… your father?"

She nodded sadly. "I am one of the Hesperides, the daughters of Atlas and the water goddess Pleione," she said. "Or, at least, I _was_. My sisters disowned me after…" She swallowed.

I leaned down and kissed the side of her head. "You can tell me," I murmured. "You know I could never think poorly of you."

She relaxed a bit and slowly nodded her head again. "Do you remember what the Garden of the Hesperides was known for?" she asked me.

I thought hard, but my mind was blank. "Um, no, I don't."

"The Garden was the home of the golden apples of immortality."

I snapped my fingers. "Of course! That was one of Hercules' quests, right?" Zoë winced at the name of Hercules. "To steal one of the golden apples from the Garden?"

"Yes… and I helped him do it," she whispered hoarsely.

I frowned. "I don't remember that being in the story," I said.

"Of course not!" Zoë snapped. "The selfish bastard betrayed me!" She took a deep breath, and I just patiently continued stroking her back. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I did not mean to lash out at you."

"Hey, it's alright," I assured her. "I know. Go on."

"When I first met… him, I thought I was in love with him. He promised that if I helped him to steal one of the apples, he would take me with him and make me his wife." She laughed bitterly. "I was young, foolish, and misguided. I believed him. I told him how to sneak past Ladon, the dragon that guarded the tree, and even gifted him a celestial bronze sword. But when he succeeded in stealing an apple, he cast me aside like a piece of garbage. He acted as if I never existed, claiming that he had retrieved the apple completely on his own, and ignored his promise to take me with him."

"When my sisters, the other Hesperides, found out about my treachery, they were furious. They disowned me and cast me out in disgrace. If Artemis had not found me and taken me in… I know not what might have happened."

I digested her tale in contemplative silence, but my blood was boiling in rage. I, like probably every demigod ever, had previously held Hercules in high regard, and it was hard to believe that one of the most famous and (supposedly) honorable heroes in history had taken advantage of someone in such a heartless, callous manner. But there was no question I trusted Zoë's word above whatever myths about Hercules had been passed down through the ages, so I didn't doubt for a second that she was telling the truth.

I was consumed by an irrational fury, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to find Hercules and make him suffer for what he did to Zoë. I must have accidentally clenched my fist in her hair, because she let out a soft grunt of pain that brought me back to reality.

"Oh gods," I said, massaging her scalp in an attempt to soothe her. "I'm sorry, Zo. Did I hurt you?"

She smiled reassuringly. "It is nothing," she replied, but I continued to gently massage her head anyway.

"It just makes me mad to imagine anyone hurting you like that."

"Orion, I can take care of myself," she grumbled. "It was a long time ago."

"I know. But I also know that I would do anything to protect you. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you."

"Nor I, you," Zoë said. "But we may not have a choice. Remember the lines of the prophecy: _one shall be lost, one shall perish_."

I shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. "By the end of this quest, two of us will be dead." I shook my head slowly. "I don't even want to think about that."

"I agree," she said. "There are going to be many more dangers on this quest, before we even reach Mt. Tamalpais."

"I know, and I don't care. I meant what I said; I'd do anything to keep you safe, even give my life for yours if I had to." I paused. "Wait. Mt. Tamalpais? How do you know that's where we're going?"

Zoë's voice was sad and pained. "Mt. Tam is in San Francisco, and it is the American location of the Garden of the Hesperides," she said. "It is also the mountain where Atlas holds the sky… or, I fear, where he _used to_ hold it. If Percy was telling the truth, and the General was in D.C. today, that can only mean one thing."

A chill ran down my spine. "He's loose again."

"Indeed," Zoë affirmed. "The mountain was his punishment for his role in the Titan War. Since he was the Titan of Strength, he was imprisoned at the peak and forced to bear the weight of the sky for all eternity."

"But why has it taken him this long to escape? Why didn't he just make someone else take it and free himself?"

"The burden can only be taken willingly, and only an immortal could survive holding it for any length of time. As I'm sure you can imagine, no immortal, or even any of Kronos' lesser servants, would be willing to do that."

Suddenly, the misty green image of my mother bound in chains on a mountaintop, struggling under an invisible weight, surged its way back into my mind. My eyes widened. "That's what happened to Artemis," I realized. "Somehow, he tricked or forced her into holding the sky."

Zoë nodded sadly. "And we must save her before the winter solstice council meeting at Olympus on Friday. She has been one of the most vocal Olympians in supporting the war against Kronos, and without her, the council will be in chaos. The gods will accuse each other of kidnapping her, and as they fight amongst themselves, Kronos will destroy our civilization."

"Ahh," I said. "That's not good."

"No," she agreed. "It is not. By managing to free Atlas and placing him back in command of the Titan army, while simultaneously removing Lady Artemis from the picture, Kronos has gained a huge advantage over us. We have to hurry."

I glanced out the window, observing the countryside. The train seemed to still be moving at impossible speeds, which was good. However, we still didn't know where exactly it was taking us, which was bad. I supposed we just had to trust that Apollo knew what he was doing.

"At least we seem to have the speed factor covered, for the time being," I commented. "Though I'm guessing that Apollo can only facilitate our transport until sundown."

"Most likely," said Zoë. "We will have to reassess our situation when the train stops and we can figure out where we are."

I nodded, and our conversation lulled once more.

After a while, I decided to bring up something else that was bothering me. "Zo, if you don't mind me asking, why is it that you and Thalia don't get along?"

"Orion…"

"I know I'm being extremely invasive tonight, but please, humor me. I want to get to know you better, Zoë."

The lieutenant sighed. "I was on a mission with the Hunters years ago when we ran into her and two of her friends," she said. "One of them was the daughter of Athena who went missing at the cliff in Maine."

"Annabeth," I recalled.

She nodded. "Yes. The other was a boy, with blond hair and blue eyes. We saved them from a monster attack, and afterwards, we offered the two girls a place among the Hunters." She gazed unseeingly off into the distance, absorbed in her memory. "When they declined, it was easy to see that Thalia had feelings for the boy. I warned her that males could not be trusted, that the boy would let her down in the end. She refused to be swayed. There may have been some harsh words exchanged. In the end, we left them right where we found them. And that was the end of it, until recently."

"Who was the boy?" I asked.

"I believe his name was Luke."

I frowned. I thought I remembered Percy yammering something about a Luke when he first ran into us (literally) in the Air and Space Museum. "What happened to him?"

"According to Chiron, he betrayed the gods and is now the chief demigod agent of Kronos' army."

"So you were right about him."

"I doubt Thalia would see it that way."

I nodded. "Have you ever considered trying to mend things with her?"

Zoë scowled. "She is far too headstrong. It is always the same with children of Zeus. They are too prideful to ever admit they are wrong."

"Maybe it's not about who's wrong and who's right," I suggested. "If this quest is going to succeed, we need both of you to be able to cooperate with each other. Maybe it's just time to put aside the past; you know, forgive and forget."

"I thought you hated clichés."

"That should show you how serious I am that you should do this."

She was silent, then sighed. "I will make no guarantees, Orion, but for you, I suppose I can try."

"Thank you, Zoë. That's all I ask." The sun sank lower in the sky, and I yawned. "Well… I think I'm going to catch some shut-eye before this thing stops."

"Alright." Zoë reluctantly removed herself from my lap.

"Hey," I murmured. "Thank you for indulging me tonight. It means a lot to me that you're willing to trust me with your past."

She smiled softly. "Of course, Orion. You did the same for me not too long ago; it was the least I could do to repay the favor."

I smiled back at her and gave her a quick kiss, then crawled back over to the passenger seat (for Bianca's sake – I didn't want her waking up to find Zoë and I cuddled together in the front. That would have been an awkward conversation). I reclined the chair to a nearly flat angle and closed my eyes. Within minutes, I descended into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Zoë woke me up a few hours later.

Consistent with our expectations, the train had apparently finished its journey at nightfall, depositing the five of us at the edge of a small mountain town. There was a big green sign in front of us that said, "Welcome to Cloudcroft, New Mexico! Population: 697."

I nearly laughed out loud. I didn't think there were any towns that small left in America.

"New Mexico, huh?" I mused. "So that train got us two-thirds of the way across the country in a few hours?" I whistled. "Good deal."

"We should check out the town," said Thalia. "Maybe we can catch another train down out of the mountains."

We set off, searching for the main road. Once we finally found it, we followed it into the town proper. Wooden buildings designed like ski cabins lined the street, their roofs sagging under the weight of piled snow. Some of them appeared to be shops, while the rest actually were ski lodges or houses.

We selected a small coffee shop and headed inside. Everyone ordered their preferred hot drink (which for me meant a good old hot chocolate), and once we had them in our hands, we went out and claimed an isolated table on the outdoor patio. The metal wicker chairs absorbed and conducted the cold like nobody's business, which, combined with their already-uncomfortable design, made them nearly unbearable to sit on. We were all shivering underneath our coats, but fortunately, the warmth of our various beverages helped rejuvenate us a bit.

We held an impromptu quest meeting as we sipped.

"Our biggest priority," Zoë began, "is to figure out the best way to continue traveling west. I do not wish to spend more time here than is absolutely necessary."

"I agree," I said. "The locals should be able to help with that. We should split up to cover more ground." I pointedly caught Zoë's eyes, then flicked my head discreetly towards Thalia.

The Hunter didn't look happy, but after a silent battle of wills, she closed her eyes and huffed in resignation. "Very well," she said. "This town is a ski destination, so there should be a welcome center of some kind. Thalia and I will search it out and gather what information we can."

Thalia jerked her head and stared at Zoë as if she'd just said, _Let's all go jump off a bridge!_ "Oh, we will, will we?" she asked skeptically.

Zoë looked like she was fully prepared to just give up there and change her mind, but I answered for her before she could. "Yes, you will," I said shortly. "And see if you can find a clothing store while you're at it; I need a new pair of underwear."

Similar to Zoë, Thalia made a face like she'd swallowed something extremely unpleasant, but as I'd hoped, my last comment dissuaded her from arguing.

Meanwhile, I turned to the two younger members of our group. "Percy, you and Bianca can ask around the stores on main street here. See if you can find anyone who knows anything that will help us get out of here."

"Sure," said Bianca.

"Plan to meet back here in" – I checked the clock above the bar in the coffee shop – "an hour."

"Hang on," Percy said, quirking an eyebrow at me. "If all of us are out gathering information, what are you going to be doing?"

Everyone turned to look at me. I played it off with a shrug. "I have an idea that might get us some help," I said, reluctant to divulge anything. Zoë's volcanic black eyes bored into me, but I met them calmly and subtly shook my head: _I'll tell you later_. "I don't know if it'll even work, but I need to be alone to even have a chance. That much I'm sure of."

They didn't look satisfied with my answer, but thankfully, they didn't question me any further. I guess they realized they weren't going to get anything more out of me.

Our discussion complete, we finished our drinks, tossed the empty cups into a nearby trash can, and went our separate ways. Percy and Bianca returned to the counter of the coffee shop to talk to the owner, while Thalia and Zoë set off back down the main road.

Where did I go, you ask? I trudged up the street in the opposite direction of the two girls, slogging my way through the snow towards a dilapidated building I'd spotted earlier. Why? Because I wanted to try to make a phone call.

During the course of our multi-subway journey through D.C., Percy had explained the concept of an Iris-message to me. I hadn't had any reason to try it out before, but now, I wondered if there was someone I could contact who might be willing to help us find further transportation west.

On the way up the street, I ducked into a gift shop and purchased a small crystal prism with some cash from my bag. A rainbow was an essential component needed to send an Iris-message, apparently, so I figured I should probably get something to help facilitate the process of creating one. The entry bell dinged as I pushed the door open and headed back outside.

The building I was looking for at the end of the street turned out to be an abandoned warehouse full of old ski equipment. Damaged lifts that had been retired and old pairs of skis, rusted from disuse, were propped against the metal walls. Broken helmets and other pieces of protective gear littered the concrete floor like rejected toys at a day care. Little piles of snow had accumulated on the floor where sections of the roof had collapsed inwards, leaving parts of the building exposed to the elements.

The mountain air carried a musty taint here. Though the (mostly) enclosed space offered protection from the wind outside, it also acted like a meat locker, trapping and retaining the cold. I shivered and drew my Hunter parka tighter around me.

I quickly reviewed the instructions Percy had listed out.

 _Step 1: Make a rainbow._

I took the prism out of my pocket and looked around me. Hmm… something I failed to consider was that it was nighttime, which meant that the only light filtering into the building was that of the moon, which wasn't nearly direct enough to focus into a prism.

I frowned and ran through a mental checklist of my possessions. Knives, first-aid, clothes… none of that would be any help. Although… I smiled. I held out my hand, palm upward, and briefly focused my energy, forming one of my silver arrows. The glow it emitted still wasn't ideal, but when I held the point right up to the prism, it was enough to cast an indistinct, blurry smear of rainbow-y colors onto the wall.

I shrugged. That would have to do.

 _Step 2: Make an offering to the goddess Iris._

I reached into my pack and pulled out my money bag, retrieving a drachma from inside. I flicked it towards the rainbow on the wall and said, "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering!" The coin hit the wall, but instead of rebounding with a clang, it sank right through and disappeared.

 _Step 3: Address your message._

I cleared my throat. "Show me Marethyu!" I announced in a clear voice. Normally, you were supposed to specify a location, too, but I couldn't even begin to imagine where the mysterious man might be, so I hoped his name only would suffice.

The idea had struck me sometime during my conversation with Zoë about Apollo speeding our travel. I began to wonder: if some of the gods were willing to risk helping us, what about Marethyu? I still knew next to nothing about him, and even though I didn't exactly trust him, he _had_ helped save my life in the past. Maybe he would be able to get us further west.

All of a sudden, there was a chime like a doorbell, and I excitedly rubbed my hands together and faced the projection on the wall. But then the rainbow spat my drachma back out at my feet, and an echoing female voice issued from the wall. _We apologize for the inconvenience. The being you're trying to reach is either unavailable or does not exist. Please try again later._

My heart sank to my boots. I bent down and picked up the drachma, tossed it back into the rainbow, and repeated my statements. I was met with the same result. Just in case, I tried the process one more time, and the same message replayed itself yet again. My drachma clattered onto the concrete once more.

I gritted my teeth and rubbed my temples in frustration. I admit my hopes hadn't been high, but it would've been nice to have at least succeeded in making contact with him, even if it was just for him to tell me he wouldn't help. I guess even _that_ was too much to ask for.

I sighed. I supposed all I could do now was head back to the coffee shop and wait for the others to return, praying they'd had better luck than I had.

As I turned back to the entrance, though, I found my way blocked by a humanoid figure. It was too far away and too dark to make out any details, but there was something in its hand that looked like a weapon. I summoned my katana and cautiously inched forward.

Soon, I was close enough that the silver glow from my sword illuminated my adversary, and I was able to make out the details of its appearance. When I did, my heart skipped a beat, and I faltered and gasped.

Transparent gray flesh haphazardly covered a rotting white skeleton. It wore a gray military camouflage uniform, and stared at me mercilessly through lifeless eye sockets. A piece of human bone sharpened into a short sword was clutched in its hand.

I cursed. The _spartoi_ had found us. Now I _really_ needed to get back to the others.

The skeleton slowly stalked towards me. I hefted my blade in front of me, keeping it between us, and carefully backed away. Zoë had said the _spartoi_ were some of the deadliest warriors she had ever encountered, so I wasn't confident that I could beat one mano-a-mano. Besides, if one of them was here, I was pretty sure the others wouldn't be too far behind, and twelve-against-one was decidedly worse odds than single combat.

Sure enough, I heard some kind of weird chattering, clacking noise behind me. I quickly glanced over my shoulder long enough to glimpse three more of the _spartoi_ dropping down from the roof, before turning my attention back to the one in front of me. If I didn't move fast, I was going to be surrounded.

I did the only thing I could. I charged at the solitary skeleton.

It didn't so much as twitch as I approached, until I swung by katana towards its head. My blade's advance was suddenly halted by the sword of bone, the impact jarring my arm. Without hesitating, I withdrew my sword and spun around, slashing this time at the skeleton's legs.

I scored a hit, completely severing the creature's limb beneath the knee. The _spartoi_ silently dropped to the ground, and I quickly thrust my sword into its chest, then yanked it out and decapitated it. As I used my window of opportunity to dash towards the door, I noticed that the bones of the skeleton I'd just detached were knitting back together again.

I groaned internally and picked up the pace.

The moon shone down on me as I raced down the street, bolstering my strength and stamina. I ran faster than I ever had before, heading straight for the coffee shop. I could only hope my friends had returned already.

Fortunately, they had. The quest members were gathered around the same table we'd shared earlier, all wearing tense and concerned expressions. Percy and Bianca were whispering quietly to each other, while Thalia and Zoë sat in silence, anxiously waiting for me to show. If I wasn't mistaken, though, there didn't seem to be quite as much of an air of hostility between the two.

Well, good. At least something worthwhile came out of this pit stop.

I hurried through the interior of the store and burst out onto the patio. My friends nearly jumped in surprise. When Zoë saw it was me, she relaxed and let out a relieved sigh. "Thank the gods," she said. "We were getting worried about you." Then she noticed my grim expression and the rush I was in. "What is it? What happened?"

I slowed to a halt and grasped onto the back of the empty chair, breathing hard. "They found us," I said between pants. "The _spartoi_ are here."

The others shot to their feet. "Okay, that's a big problem," said Thalia, as if it wasn't obvious. "We found the welcome center, and apparently this place is basically the middle of nowhere. They said there's no easy way out unless you have a car, which we don't, or want to wait an hour for a taxi from the nearest town, which we can't."

"The store clerks said the same thing," Bianca added nervously.

Percy scrutinized me closely. "What about you, Orion? Did your idea work?"

I shook my head morosely. "No, it didn't. And now I have no idea what we can do."

We glanced around at each other helplessly. I didn't know how far behind me the _spartoi_ were, but it couldn't be long before they arrived here. When they did, we'd have to try and fight through them.

"Maybe we can steal a car from someone in town?" Thalia said in desperation.

"I haven't s –" I suddenly froze.

Zoë stared at me, wide-eyed. "Orion?"

I didn't answer. A presence had suddenly entered my mind, one that was alien yet familiar at the same time. I heard a deep male voice speak in my head. _The ski lift on the outskirts of town. Come alone, and hurry; we do not have much time._

I didn't need to be told twice. I leaped straight over the fence separating the patio from the street, and I heard Thalia call from behind me, "Orion, wait! Where are you going?!"

"Don't worry about me!" I yelled back. "I'm going to get help! Just wait there!" I didn't look over my shoulder to see if she listened to me; I just had to hope they trusted me and didn't follow.

I sprinted down the street, running even faster than I had when I was fleeing from the _spartoi_. It took me a while, but I eventually located a larger cabin with a large sign that read, "CLOUDCROFT SKI LIFT," then underneath, "SNOW TOO THIN; SLOPES CLOSED FOR WINTER." I slammed my shoulder into the wooden door at full speed and ripped it off the hinges, the remains crumpling inwards.

The inside of the building reminded me of the station of a roller coaster. It was a wide hall, open at the far end, with a track carved in the middle to allow for the cable lines where the ski lifts were suspended. The line was stationary, and the place was completely empty.

Well, not completely empty. A man stood at the edge of the platform, facing the door I'd just busted down. He wore a familiar black robe, the hood pulled up over his head, as always. Though the majority of his face was obscured, I could make out the shine of his striking blue eyes underneath his cowl, as well as the glint of metal protruding from his right sleeve.

"Marethyu," I breathed in relief. "You got my message, then."

The only clue I had in discerning his mood was his eyes, but they were unreadable. "I saw that you attempted to contact me, yes. A dangerous prospect, Orion; do not presume to try it again."

I swallowed uncomfortably. "Um, okay. Sorry."

"It is alright," he assured me. "After all, you _are_ in quite the pickle, aren't you?"

That reminded me of the reason I was here. "Yes. My friends –"

"Are safe," he finished. "I have distracted the _spartoi_ for the time being. I know you have some… things you wish to discuss with me, so I managed to buy us a little more time. Do not worry about your friends."

"Oh. Uh, thank you."

"It was the least I could do. Now… why did you wish to contact me?"

I figured the question was mostly rhetorical, but I decided to answer seriously anyway. That was usually the best course of action with powerful beings like him. "We need help," I said bluntly. "We're stuck here in New Mexico with no way west and a dozen un-killable skeleton warriors surrounding us."

He crossed his arms across his chest, the curve of his hook resting comfortably around his left bicep. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can't you just, like, wave your hook and teleport us where we need to go?"

"I could, but that would defeat the purpose. The destination is meaningless without the journey; you, of all people, should understand that, Orion."

I stared at him. "What, so you're just going to let us die here?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not."

"Then do something!"

Marethyu's cerulean-blue eyes turned icy. "Careful, Orion," he said. "Your selfishness is beginning to try my patience." I gulped and nodded. "Contrary to your expectations, I cannot just drop everything to solve your problems for you. Although I operate outside the Ancient Laws, I am still bound by certain… self-imposed restrictions. And snapping my fingers and whisking you on your way happens to be in violation of those restrictions."

"Then what are we going to do?"

He just stood there, mute, observing me closely. His eyes trailed over my form, taking in my slumped posture, the slight tremor of my hands, the desperate look in my eyes. A silent debate seemed to rage in his head, given away by the conflicted look in his eyes. Then he sighed. "I cannot believe I am saying this," he muttered. "But I suppose I can make an exception just this one time."

Hope flared in my chest. "You're going to help us?" I asked, hardly daring to let myself believe it.

"Against my better judgement, yes. But don't think I'm going to make a habit of it," he warned when my face lit up in a huge grin. "This is the first and only time I will ever do this. As much as I dislike it, the fact is, you _must_ reach San Francisco on time, and you have no other method of transport."

He took a few steps towards me and raised his hook. I closed my eyes in preparation. "It's unlikely I need to reiterate this, but I would prefer it if you did not tell your companions about me," he instructed. "Knowledge is power, they say, and while anonymity is an advantage, no one even knowing of your existence… that is another thing entirely."

I mumbled an "Okay," and he nodded, satisfied.

"Oh, and Orion?" Marethyu added. "The beast isn't what it seems."

I opened my eyes sharply to question him, but I instantly regretted it. He touched his hook to my forehead, and everything swirled into a vertigo-inducing blob of indistinct color. Then it all faded to white, and I knew no more.


	13. Chapter 13: Crimson Dawn

**Sorry for the longer wait; this chapter was probably the hardest one yet to write, most likely because it's one of my least favorite parts of _Titan's Curse_. Hopefully the next one won't take quite as long.**

 **On another note, even though no one responded to my question about chapter length, I've decided I might slightly shorten them anyway. This one is still fairly standard, but as the story goes on, they might start dropping closer to 4k or 5k words.**

 **Anyways, fav/follow and review as always, and enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 13: Crimson Dawn

It turned out Marethyu's idea of "helping us on our way" was sending us from an isolated ski town in the mountains of New Mexico to a ghost town in the middle of the desert.

I regained consciousness lying on my back, half-buried in the side of a sand dune. After no small amount of struggling, I was finally able to extricate my legs from under the sand and stand up. I peered around me and assessed my surroundings.

The first thing I noticed (with relief) was that it was still nighttime. The moon seemed to be in roughly the same position it had been before my conversation with Marethyu, which meant it was likely that very little time had passed since we had arrived here. The place was just a cluster of a few run-down, old Western-style wooden buildings that looked like they'd been abandoned for centuries, including some kind of taco stand. There was a sign on a pole stuck in the ground a few feet away from me; some of the letters had eroded away over time, but I was pretty sure it was supposed to say "Gila Claw, Arizona."

The second observation I made was that my companions had yet to awaken, and lay sprawled on the ground in various positions in the general vicinity – though of course, with my luck, I was the only one who'd ended up partly submerged in the sand.

I wanted to rouse Zoë first (a fact that shouldn't surprise you), but Thalia was the one closest to my current position, so I decided just to trek over to her instead. She was lying on her back, like I had been, and one of her legs was twisted underneath her awkwardly.

I crouched down beside her and placed my hand on her shoulder, intending to shake her awake. Unfortunately, making unwanted contact with a daughter of Zeus is always a risky proposition, something I failed to consider. As soon as my hand touched the fabric of her black army jacket, a blue spark jumped to my fingers and an electric shock rocketed up my arm. I yelped and hurriedly yanked my hand away, cursing.

Even though it wasn't the way I would've intended, the energy she instinctively released from her body combined with my outcry of pain was enough to jolt Thalia into wakefulness. Her eyes shot open and she leaped to her feet, reaching for the mace canister that I knew would transform into her spear.

"Hey whoa there, Sparky," I said, holding out my hands in front of me with my palms facing her. "Let's calm down there. It's just me."

Thalia relaxed her hands from her weapon and scowled. "Could you be a little more gentle next time?" she said, irritated.

I stared at her. "You're the one who shocked _me_!"

She just shrugged, not even bothering to pretend to be sorry. "Oops."

There was no point complaining to Thalia; I knew her well enough by now to know that she wouldn't care. "Whatever," I grumbled. "Just help me wake up the others." Thankfully, she agreed without argument and started heading off towards Percy, while I approached the unconscious forms of Zoë and Bianca.

I woke them in the same manner I'd done with Thalia. Similar to the daughter of Zeus, Zoë was up and alert immediately after I gently jostled her shoulder – though fortunately without the electric shock this time – thanks to the two millennia she'd had to refine her Hunter's instincts. Bianca took a bit longer to come around, rubbing her forehead and coughing.

"Ungh, what happened?" she groaned. "The last thing I remember was sitting at the table at the café, waiting for you to come back. Where are we?"

"We've been transported to somewhere in Arizona," I explained. "I don't know exactly where."

Zoë cast her gaze around and appraised our situation. When she swept over the small town, her eyes darkened. "I think I may," she said, and pointed.

I turned. In my initial examination of the area, I'd dismissed the landscape beyond the town as a simple mountain range. Now, though, at Zoë's urging, I took a closer look, and I realized that they weren't mountains at all. They were giant piles of discarded and broken metal, like the world's biggest scrap yard.

"The junkyard of the gods," Zoë said grimly.

Thalia and Percy, the latter now conscious once more, joined us. Percy's hair was sticking up in random directions, and I couldn't help but wonder if Thalia had woken him purposefully in the same way she'd inadvertently woken herself. "Why do you say it like that?" Percy asked.

The Hunter's mouth was set in a tight line. "Because that is where the gods, usually Hephaestus in particular, dispose of projects of theirs that have malfunctioned, or items and trinkets that have become useless in one way or another. Everything in that yard is defective, or worse… cursed. It is a dangerous place."

I frowned. The junkyard of the gods… from Zoë's description, it didn't sound like somewhere that should be at the top of our itinerary. Still, Marethyu had to have sent us here for a reason. Maybe it was some kind of test or challenge that we had to face in order to progress.

Zoë turned to me with her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?" she demanded. "Who sent us here?"

I glanced around at the others, who were watching me expectantly. I remembered Marethyu's words about keeping his existence a secret from them, so I cleared my throat and met Zoë's obsidian orbs calmly. "He did," I said evenly, hoping she would know exactly who I meant by "he."

After a moment, the light bulb went off. Her eyes widened. "But why? Why here? And how did you even contact him?"

"I don't know why here, but I'm guessing there's a pretty good reason. He never does anything without a reason, and even though I don't completely trust him, he's always helped us in the past."

"Perhaps, but still… something seems off."

Bianca, Thalia, and Percy looked completely bewildered by our exchange. "Um, who's this 'he' you guys are talking about?" Thalia questioned.

Zoë started to answer, but I cut her off and shook my head. "Sorry, Thalia, but we can't say," I said. "No one can know about him."

None of them looked satisfied with my answer, and even though I felt a little guilty about keeping such a large secret from them, I didn't have much of a choice. I promised Marethyu I wouldn't reveal his identity, and I don't break promises.

"Are we sure it's even a good idea to go in there?" Bianca put in. "From what Zoë said, that place doesn't sound all that friendly."

Zoë raised her head to observe the stars, then sighed. "Unfortunately, that direction" – she gestured at the heaps of junk – "is west… which means the junkyard lies directly in our path. It extends too far for us to go around it on foot, and we have no other method of transportation. Traveling through it seems to be our only option."

Thalia opened her mouth – probably to argue, knowing her – but just then, a white light like the beam of a giant headlight washed over us, blinding us all. I squinted and shielded my eyes with one hand. There was a low rumbling, then all of a sudden, a deathly white limousine the color of bone drove up out of nowhere, almost running over Percy. He had to hurl himself backwards, narrowly avoiding the corner of the vehicle's hood, and landed on his back in the sand. When he recovered from his shock, he stood and brushed himself off, scowling.

The limo came to a stop. The door to the back seat cracked open. Zoë, Bianca, and I instantly had our bows out and aimed at it. Thalia gripped her spear tightly in her hand.

A figure stepped out of the car. It was a man, tall and buff, wearing a typical biker's outfit: black leather jacket, white vest, black jeans, combat boots, wraparound shades, the works. He wielded a sword in his hand, the point held just underneath Percy's chin. For no reason at all, I found myself feeling irrationally angry, as if this biker dude had killed my cat or something, and I wanted nothing more than to just let my arrow fly straight into his face.

The man walked forward, forcing Percy to back away to avoid the tip of the blade piercing his neck. "Well, well, well, punk," he said, wearing a cruel smirk. "Look what we have here."

"Ares," Percy growled back.

Ahh… so this was the god of war. That explained the aggressive attitude, and why I suddenly wanted to pick a fight for no apparent reason. I found myself feeling a little intrigued, if I'm honest; the only gods I'd dealt with before were Artemis and Apollo (and Dionysus, but I'm not sure he really counts), and I was curious to see what one who wasn't related to me would be like.

Ares flicked his gaze over to where the four of us stood with our weapons ready. "At ease, people," he said. "This is just a friendly visit." He snapped his fingers, and our weapons dropped out of our hands and fell to the ground.

"What do you want?" Percy asked through gritted teeth.

The war god turned his attention back to the son of Poseidon. "Don't you think you should treat a god with more respect?"

"My respect is for people who deserve it."

Ares grinned. "You haven't lost your spunk, I'll give you that," he said. "But man, you have no idea how badly I want to beat your skull in."

"Then why don't you?" challenged Percy. "Scared of getting your godly ass handed to you again?"

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't know what kind of history those two had, but I felt like insulting and challenging the god of war didn't seem like an idea that would be conducive to continued good health.

Ares removed his sunglasses, and I gave a little start. Where his eyes should have been were empty sockets, filled with little balls of white-hot flames. "You wish, punk. Unfortunately, as much as I'd like to teach you a little lesson, that's not why I'm here. Besides, I make it a point not to kill anyone in front of the lady."

The lady?

The others looked just as confused as I was, which made me feel a little better. Ares laughed at our expressions. "That's right," he said. "She wanted to have a word with you, punk, so here we are. Now get in."

"And what are the rest of us supposed to do?" I asked. I had to fight down the unnatural aggression Ares' presence was making me feel in order to keep my voice level and neutral.

The fiery eyes of the war god bored into me. I met them easily, my expression remaining unchanged. He seemed slightly impressed. "Who's this runt?" The question wasn't directed at anyone in particular, just thrown out into the group.

"Doesn't matter," I answered. "What do you want with our friend?"

I got the sense Ares was amused. "Doesn't matter," he parroted back at me. "Like I said, if it were up to me, I'd rip his guts out, but the lady wants a word with him. As for the rest of you…" He shrugged. "Do I look like I care? Explore the town, I'm sure you'll find something to do."

"It's a ghost town," I said dryly.

The war god snapped his fingers again. Behind us, the taco stand suddenly lit up, fresh tacos appearing on the counter. "There," Ares said. "Get something to eat, relax a bit, and most importantly" – his voice turned cold – "stop wasting my time. Now scram."

Thalia looked at Percy, asking a silent question.

He shrugged. "Go ahead, guys. I'll be fine."

She nodded stiffly, and the four of us turned and headed towards the town, leaving Percy alone with Ares and his mysterious "lady." I glanced back only once, long enough to glimpse the demigod's messy black hair disappearing as he climbed into the back seat of the limo.

* * *

The tacos were surprisingly good.

We sat around a picnic table that had appeared next to the cart. I was the only one who had elected to try a taco – Zoë and Thalia mentioned something about not trusting anything that had come from Ares, and Bianca just followed their lead. I had no such qualms; hey, tacos were tacos, right?

All of us kept sneaking anxious glances back towards the limo. Ares stood beside the closed door like a glorified guard dog, with his sword held casually in one hand and a taunting smirk plastered on his face.

Bianca eventually voiced what we were all thinking. "Is Percy going to be alright?" The question was mostly aimed at Thalia, since she was the one who knew him the best.

The daughter of Zeus shrugged in response. "Sometimes I swear his head is full of kelp," she said. "And he's not always great with the whole 'deference' thing when it comes to gods. But I think he should be fine. Most of the gods acknowledge that they can't kill him without drawing the wrath of Poseidon, and they aren't willing to risk that."

"'Most of the gods'?" I quoted dubiously.

She grimaced. "There was a little… incident… with Ares over there, a couple of summers ago that Percy told me about."

"What kind of incident?"

"They fought each other, apparently."

I stared at her. "What? Percy fought _Ares_?"

"And won. That's why Ares hates him so much."

My eyes were the size of dinner plates, and I'm pretty sure my mouth hit the table. "What in Hades did he use to fight him, a freaking anti-immortal plasma laser gun? Because that's the only way I can see Percy winning that."

"I know," Thalia agreed. "It sounds crazy, but Grover and Annabeth both assured me –" She stopped abruptly. I knew the memory had reminded her that her friend Annabeth was still missing, and I could tell that underneath the tough exterior she projected, the loss had hit her hard. She liked to mask her emotions under a layer of hostility and anger, but I had dealt with Zoë long enough to be able to recognize the façade for what it was.

The two girls were so very alike, though both of them probably would have punched me if I said that out loud. I could see why Zoë had wanted her for the Hunters. They were both loyal and strong, both natural leaders with a commanding presence. They didn't make friends hastily, but they cared greatly for those they did consider friends. While Thalia hid her true feelings with aggression, Zoë would be icy cold and aloof. But I knew that in their hearts, they genuinely loved the ones that were close to them, and it wasn't hard to observe the pain of loss and guilt in Thalia's eyes. It was the same look I'd seen in Zoë's when we found out Artemis was kidnapped.

I reached over and gently patted her arm. Thalia looked startled at the contact. "We'll get her back," I promised. "Her and my mother. I don't care what it takes; we're getting them back."

The unusual vulnerability in Thalia's expression receded as I spoke, my determination fueling her own. "You're right," she growled. "I'll fight the General myself if I have to."

"If I were you, I would hope it does not come to that," Zoë warned. "You would not likely survive a confrontation with him. None of us would. That is why it is essential for us to free Lady Artemis first… she is the only one who can match him long enough for us to find a way to trap him back in his prison."

"How do we even know that's possible?" I asked.

"We do not. But it must be. Otherwise, we are doomed."

Her pleasant statement was met with complete quietude. None of us wanted to acknowledge the truth of her words. I found my eyes drifting back towards the limousine, wondering what was going on inside.

"Ares mentioned something about a lady wanting to talk to Percy," I said. "Who do you think he was referring to?"

Zoë made a face like she'd bitten into something sour. "That would most likely be Aphrodite," she answered, her lip curling in disgust. "Ares' lover."

I frowned. "Isn't Aphrodite married to Hephaestus?"

She arched an eyebrow. "And your point is…?"

"Ah. Right."

After that, Zoë stood and declared that she was going to search the town for anything that might indicate why we had been sent here or help us find another way past the junkyard, then departed the table. After a quick moment of hesitation, Thalia decided to get up and join her (to my surprise, but delight), leaving me alone with Bianca.

I thought I'd take the time to get to know her a little better. After all, we'd traveled together for days, even before the quest, and I still hadn't bothered to learn anything about her. Besides, she was a Hunter now, so after all of this was over, I would probably end up seeing her fairly often. She definitely seemed like someone I could easily befriend and get along with.

"So, Bianca," I began. She angled herself to face me. "How do you like being a Hunter so far?"

She smiled dreamily. "It's everything I hoped it would be and more," she said. "I feel so… light, like I could jump to the moon and back."

I chuckled. "I would imagine immortality would give you that feeling."

"It's not even just that. I don't want to sound… selfish or resentful or something, but… almost my whole life, I've had to look after Nico because our parents are gone. Don't get me wrong, I love him a lot, but knowing that he finally had people at Camp Half-Blood that would relieve me of that responsibility, that would take care of him and keep him safe, and that he finally found the family he deserved… it was a huge weight off my shoulders."

I nodded in understanding. While it was true I couldn't relate to her circumstances out of personal experience, I could certainly imagine how much of a relief it would have been to know that her little brother would be safe without her having to be there to watch over him. "That's why you didn't feel guilty about joining the Hunters," I guessed.

She nodded as well. "I trust Chiron and the others to protect him," she said. "I'll visit him when I can, but he's getting old enough that he doesn't need me to hold his hand all the time, you know? I figured he would be okay at the Camp, especially with guys like you and Percy there to care for him." She flashed me an appreciative smile.

I was flattered, and grinned back at her. "Aww, thanks. That means a lot." Turns out I was right; this girl was extremely easy to talk to, and I could tell already that she would be a close friend of mine for sure.

For a while, we just sat in companionable silence. Then Bianca's expression turned hesitant. "Um, Orion?" she said timidly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"I realize it's not really any of my business, but I couldn't help but notice how easygoing you and Zoë are with each other. And if there's one thing about her that I've learned in the short time I've known her, it's that she hates males more than any other Hunter I've met. What exactly happened between the two of you that she would overlook that when it comes to you?"

I regarded the young girl in front of me with new respect, albeit grudgingly. Zoë and I didn't want anyone to find out that we were a little more than friends, because of what that would mean for Zoë, so we had been careful not to be overtly affectionate with each other unless we were alone. Despite that, though, it was obvious that, at the very least, she didn't treat me with the same hostility she showed to every other male. While the others had either dismissed this fact or simply failed to notice it at all, Bianca had recognized that there was more behind Zoë and I's interaction than met the eye.

Still, that didn't mean I had to reveal the true depth of my relationship with her. It's not that I didn't trust Bianca; I just didn't want to take any risks of my mother finding out and kicking Zoë out of the Hunters.

"We… traveled together, for a time," I said finally. "At Artemis' request. I had a quest to complete, and she wanted to make sure I was safe, so she asked Zoë to accompany me." My gaze became distant as I reminisced about the past. "During the journey, we encountered some… hardships." I shivered as I recalled our time in Krios' dungeon. I tried not to remember _that_ particular "hardship." "I saved her life, she saved mine. Along the way, we formed a bond of mutual respect, you could say." I snorted inwardly at the understatement. I leaned forward and winked conspiratorially at her. "Don't tell her I said this, but I think she's actually starting to like me."

Bianca threw her head back and laughed, a clear and carefree sound that was almost as beautiful as Zoë's ( _almost_ ). I couldn't help but smile. In the midst of such a perilous quest, it was nice to have a reminder that there was still goodness in the world.

But of course, the moment had to be ruined. There was movement from over by the limousine, and I looked up in time to see Ares reach in and yank Percy out by the scruff of his neck. Bianca and I rose hurriedly and rushed over to the car. By the time we got there, the war god's sword was back at Percy's neck.

Ares barely spared us a glance. "You're lucky she likes you so much, punk," he snarled, addressing Percy. "If I kill you, then I look with bad with her. So for now, you get to live. I'll see you around, though, punk. And remember…. Someday soon, _real_ soon, you're going to lift your sword to fight, and you're going to remember the curse of Ares." He smiled wickedly, then looked at Bianca and me. "What are you two losers lookin' at?" He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and for the second time in a few hours, the dark colors of the midnight world spun and blurred together as we fell to the ground.

When we came to, the limo, the taco stand, and the entire town of Gila Claw was gone without a trace. We were now standing in the middle of the junkyard.

"O-o-okay," Bianca said. "What just happened?"

I was about to answer when I was interrupted by an irritated and gruff female voice. "We were going to ask you that," Thalia grumbled. She and Zoë walked up, sporting matching glares. "Anyone want to explain why the town just disappeared?"

"Ares," Percy growled, angrily dusting off his jeans. "He did this."

"Well," I said. "I suppose we should thank him, because in a way, he's made our path easier." I gestured towards the heaps of scrap metal. "We really only have one choice now; we've got to go through the junkyard."

* * *

We moved warily, advancing in a thrown-together phalanx formation. As the quest leader, Zoë was at the point, with me on her right and Bianca to mine. Percy was to Zoë's left, with Thalia on the other side of him.

"Touch nothing," Zoë ordered. "No matter how interesting or appealing it looks, remember that everything has been discarded here for a reason."

We trudged quietly through the piles of junk. The strange thing was that some of the stuff that was littered on the ground really did seem to be in perfect condition. No one doubted Zoë's warning, though, so none of us risked picking up any of it.

That is, until Bianca spotted something silver shining in the sand. "Zoë!" she cried. "Look!" She broke our formation to run over and grab the object gingerly, lifting it up and showing it to the rest of the group.

It was a Hunter's bow, there was no question of that, slightly bent but still in one piece. As we watched, it transformed and shrunk down into a small plastic hair clip, though I couldn't imagine why that would be a necessary feature when the Hunters could just make their weapons appear and disappear whenever they wanted. "It's just like Percy's sword," Bianca said.

Zoë shook her head. "Leave it, Bianca. It is not worth the risk."

She didn't look happy about it, but she reluctantly let the hair clip fall back to the ground. We continued on.

Finally, after picking our way through more endless mounds of trash and metal, we saw the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel. Ahead of us, the junkyard opened up onto the highway. The road was bordered by power lines, and stretched off into the distance to our left and right. But there was one more thing blocking our way.

"What is that?" Percy asked nervously.

I could understand why he was worried. The thing was a few hundred feet long and made of solid bronze. It was shaped like a humanoid figure, with a boxy head on the left end, two enormous arms and legs, and two clumps of five mountainous ridges like toes on the right end.

"It looks like –" I started.

"A person," Percy finished. "A giant, metal person."

I nodded. We shifted anxiously.

Thalia's grip tightened on her spear. "I don't like this," she said. "We should give that thing a wide berth."

Even though it took a lot of extra time, we skirted as far around the giant robot as we could. No one complained; nobody wanted to a closer look, even if it meant walking so far out of our way.

At last, we stepped onto the highway. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "Well," said Percy. "That wasn't nearly as bad as –"

And of course, that's when things went wrong.

Percy's statement was interrupted by the deafening groan of thousands of pounds of shifting metal, as if the world's largest trash compactor had decided to make an appearance. We turned fearfully, and I will shamelessly admit I nearly wet myself.

The giant bronze robot had risen to its feet, and it was even more terrifying now that it was upright. It was unbelievably tall, as if one of the towers of Krios' palace had suddenly come alive and grown arms and legs. Half of his face was melted off, and rust had conquered his body like an infection. Clearly, though, it was still fully operational; as we watched, he reached down and drew his sword from its sheath, accompanied by an ear-splitting screech of metal scraping against metal. The blade was the length of a Navy warship.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Zoë. "It's Talos!" she said.

"T-Talos?" Bianca echoed with a slight stutter of fear.

"A creation of Hephaestus," Zoë answered. "But this cannot be the original; it's far too small."

"Why is it after us, though?"

"I would imagine it is a guardian of some kind… someone must have taken something," Zoë growled. She glared accusingly at Percy.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me!" he protested. "I'm not a thief!"

Zoë looked like she wanted to argue, but I cut her off. "Look, right now, it doesn't matter," I said. "Right now, all that matters is that we find some way to take that thing down."

"Bad idea," Thalia said. "I don't know if we _can_ take it down. It might be better to just run."

That plan sounded fine to me, but Zoë shook her head. "We will never outrun him on foot," she countered. "If we can just –"

But the giant was done letting us talk tactics. He advanced towards us quickly, his huge steps shaking the ground and throwing up clouds of dust.

"Scatter!" I shouted.

By now, we knew the drill. We fled in opposite directions. Zoë and I summoned our bows and began pelting the giant with arrows, but none of them could penetrate his metal casing. I'd lost sight of Bianca, but I imagined she was doing the same. Thalia had activated her shield and spear and was shooting little bolts of electricity at the giant, but again, her attacks did little more than distract and aggravate the monster.

Talos kept charging. Despite his incredible height, the impossibly long reach of his weapon still made him a significant threat. And of course, he'd apparently zeroed in on me as his first target.

I was no stranger to fighting creatures with a size advantage. After all, I'd fought the Titan Krios multiple times. But with Krios, the size and strength disparity wasn't quite so severe, so I at least had a chance of deflecting his blows – and his skin wasn't solid metal. I knew that with Talos, though, it wouldn't matter what I put in front of me to try and block his strikes; unless it was a nuclear bomb shelter with forty-foot-thick walls, he'd just smash right through it.

I remembered what Zoë had said about freeing Artemis before fighting Atlas: _You would not likely survive a confrontation with him… she is the only one who can match him long enough for us to find a way to trap him back in his prison_. This was a similar situation, so maybe I could apply the same strategy here. We couldn't fight him head-on, but if I could keep Talos occupied long enough, Zoë and the others might be able to use the time to figure out a way to defeat him.

Of course, that was going to be easier said than done.

The first swing of the giant automaton's sword came slicing towards my head. I ducked and rolled to the side, feeling a gust of air as the metal blade narrowly passed over me. I wasted no time in getting back to my feet, and I noticed that the giant was still in the midst of his follow-through.

Hope bloomed in my chest. As huge and powerful as he was, Talos seemed to be fairly slow. My idea might just work after all.

I switched out my bow for my katana and dashed around to the back of his feet. I struck at his ankle and, surprisingly, my glowing silver blade succeeded in slicing a gash in the metal. Before Talos could retaliate, I sprinted out from underneath him and faced him again.

Zoë and Thalia helped out where they could. The Hunter's arrows didn't do much of anything, but Thalia's zaps of lightning seemed to be having an effect. If I wasn't mistaken, the giant seemed to slow every time she hit it with a bolt of electricity, as if she was frying the circuits it needed to be able to move.

I still couldn't see Percy and Bianca, but I hoped they were staying out of danger. I didn't particularly trust Percy not to do anything stupid (even if he _had_ been the one to figure out how to beat the Nemean Lion) and I didn't want Bianca to get hurt trying to help him with one of his harebrained ideas. But then Talos' foot nearly crushed me, and I figured that I probably needed to stop worrying about them and start worrying about staying alive.

My dangerous dance of darting around Talos' feet continued for another few minutes. No matter how many minor wounds I scored on his lower appendages or how many lightning bolts Thalia hit him with, we were still no closer to shutting him down. The automaton was still entirely functional, and I was tiring quickly. I retreated to stand in front of a junk pile to rest and catch my breath.

That's when I saw Percy charge straight at Talos' feet to take my place, wielding his bronze sword above his head. He stabbed it into the giant's big toe, then yanked it out and instantly started running away.

Talos roared and raised his foot to flatten Percy, who launched himself out of the way just in time. Before the foot made contact with the ground, a small figure scurried underneath it. I caught a flash of black hair in a fishtail braid, then it was gone.

My heart skipped a beat, and I stood frozen. "No!" I screamed. "Bianca!"

In my moment of distraction, Talos struck. His sword hurtled towards my face. In desperation, out of instinct, I raised my katana, but I knew it was hopeless. The metal would break my sword into pieces.

Except somehow, it didn't. Maybe it was because my sword was blessed by a goddess, or maybe it was because it was formed from my energy, and right now my anger and despair for Bianca was feeding so much energy into the blade it was too powerful for Talos to destroy. Whatever the reason, my katana stayed intact. But the force from Talos' swing carried me ten feet into the air and sent me crashing into one of the piles of junk.

Thalia was too tired to conjure any more electricity. Bianca was gone. Percy and I were out of the fight now, and Zoë's barrage of arrows were as ineffective as ever. The giant raised his sword to smash it down on Percy, and I knew there was no one who could save him now.

But suddenly, Talos froze. His sword hung in the air, mere feet from Percy's chest. I hardly dared to breathe. Nobody moved.

Then Talos sheathed his sword, balled his hand into a fist, and began punching himself in the face. He wobbled around unsteadily, lurching back and forth. I stared incredulously, eyes wide. _What in Hades?_

"Yeah!" Percy cheered. "Go, Bianca!"

My eyes widened even further, if that were possible, and a smile broke out on my face. Bianca was alive! But how? And how did she get inside the machine?

But of course, as usual, our triumph was short-lived.

Talos had stumbled his way over to the highway now, and as we watched, he tripped over the power lines. Cascades of blue sparks shot up his body, starting from his feet and exploding all over him. He started to run away from us.

"Wait!" Percy yelled in horror. "Come back!" He set off after the malfunctioning automaton. After only a moment's hesitation, the rest of us followed.

We tried to chase after Talos, but he was simply too fast, and he kept shedding parts of his body that would then fall into our path. He was crumbling from the top down, first the head, then the arms, then the shoulder and torso, then the waist – still running – until finally the legs detached at the knees and he could run no longer.

Dread filled me. My blood turned to ice. _Bianca…_

We searched the wreckage for hours and hours, until the blood-red sun began to paint the sky. For all our efforts, there was no sign of the fourteen-year-old Hunter.

Zoë fell to her knees in the sand and wept openly. I'd never seen her show such vulnerability in front of anyone but me, which told me exactly how grief-stricken she was. With a few tears beginning to blur my own eyes, I walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She clutched it like a lifeline, and I pulled her against me and just held her. I didn't care what Thalia or Percy thought. Zoë needed me right now – no, we needed each other, and I wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of that.

Thalia stabbed her spear into the ground and yelled in frustration. She put her hands to her head like she was going to rip her own hair out, before sinking to the ground and collapsing against a broken fragment of Talos' chest.

Percy shifted through a few random pieces of metal. "We have to keep searching," he insisted. "The sun is up now, we'll find her."

But I dejectedly shook my head; it hadn't taken me long to figure out the reality of what had happened. "No, we won't," I said sadly. I closed my eyes, and a solitary tear slipped out of my right lid and trickled down my cheek. "It happened just like the prophecy said it would: _One shall be lost in the land without rain._ " I gestured around us helplessly. "Welcome to the desert," I finished miserably.


	14. Chapter 14: Aftermath

**With this chapter, this story has passed 100,000 words :O. By far the longest writing project I've ever managed to do.**

 **A chapter or two ago, someone suggested in a review that I should start doing responses to reviews in these A/N's. I haven't done it until now because most of the reviews I get on this story are just things like "great job" or "I like it" or "keep up the good work"; there really isn't much for me to respond to there.**

 **But I just wanted to point out that last chapter, a guy or gal by the name of Seigren left exactly the kind of review I like to see. He/she didn't just say that they liked it, they said _what_ they liked and _why_ they liked that. I really appreciate that, buddy, and I hope to see you in reviews further down the road.**

 **Also wanted to give a shoutout to 7thManiac, who has also left some consistent reviews that are more in-depth than what I usually get. Thanks bud :)**

 **On a final note, we're slowly but surely approaching the end to this story (boy, that's a mixed bag of emotions). I'm expecting probably three more chapters, and then an epilogue. Gettin' close to crunch time, folks :)**

 **Anyways, fav/follow and review as always, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 14: Aftermath

Dealing with the death of Bianca di Angelo was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do.

Physical pain is one thing. I was certainly no stranger to that, after all the years I'd spent in Krios' dungeons. But as awful as that had been, it would have been infinitely preferable to the emotional pain brought on by Bianca's passing.

What scared me the most wasn't the intensity of sadness I felt; in fact, it was quite the opposite. What terrified me was my inability to feel hardly anything. Bianca's death left a huge void in our lives, and all I could feel now was empty and numb.

It wasn't fair. She'd only been thrown into the demigod world less than a week ago. She didn't deserve this. I recalled my conversation with her at the picnic table last night, and how eager I'd been to get to know her and befriend her. I could hardly believe that was the last time I would ever have the chance to sit down and talk with her. It didn't seem real.

We plodded listlessly down the road. Percy and I trailed behind Thalia and Zoë, and for most of the walk, no one spoke. But then Percy pulled something out of his pocket and held it in his palm, just staring at it. It was a little black plastic figurine, a statue of a god.

Percy showed it to me sadly. "Bianca took this from the junkyard," he said, his voice a subdued whisper. "It's a piece from Nico's Mythomagic game. That's why Talos went after us."

I didn't answer.

Percy continued. "She felt like she had to atone for causing the danger by being the one to deal with it." He sniffed. "It's my fault. I let her go instead of me. It should have been me."

I patted him on the shoulder, but still didn't respond immediately. What do you say to something like that, especially when you felt the same sorrow? I decided on, "Don't think like that. She made the decision; she wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over it."

He laughed a quiet, humorless laugh, bordering on hysterical. "A stupid little action figure," he muttered. "Bianca died for a stupid gods-damned children's card game."

"No," I said. "She died for us to live. It took courage, and honor, and we shouldn't remember Bianca in any other way than as a hero. We can grieve for her, we _should_ grieve for her, but don't blame yourself. Because she wouldn't blame you either."

Percy was silent after that.

After a while, we found a rusty pickup truck abandoned on the side of the highway. As far as methods of transportation went, it wouldn't have been my first choice, but beggars can't be choosers (or so they say) so we commandeered it. Besides, it looked so old, we figured nobody would miss it.

Thalia drove this time. She seemed to be a little less stunned than the rest of us; Zoë was much too out of it to argue.

The cab of the truck was only a two-seater, so when we loaded into it, I subtly coerced Percy into taking the passenger seat. Zoë and I rode in the bed. For the time being, I was going to make sure the two of us stayed together. Even though I was fighting the same depression as her, she was far more heavily affected than I was, so I was making every effort to shake myself out of it for Zoë's sake. She needed me to be strong right now.

The drive down the highway passed like a dream. The sun was shining in a clear sky, and the surprisingly cool desert breeze kept away any traces of humidity. The scenery was so beautiful it was surreal, which just made it seem more impossible that last night had really happened. It was as if the weather was mocking us and dishonoring Bianca's memory by refusing to be overcast and gloomy.

Zoë and I sat next to each other leaning against the side of the truck bed, my arm wrapped around her and her head on my shoulder. Her beautiful volcanic eyes, normally so strong and hard and filled with passion, reflected the same blank look I knew I would see if I looked in a mirror. She hadn't said a word since the destruction of Talos.

Up in the cab, Thalia was focused on the road, but Percy kept shooting furtive glances over his shoulder through the back window at us. As I may have mentioned, I was beyond caring about that. He could gawk all he wanted. There were more important things right now than the secrecy of our relationship.

"It wasn't your fault," I told her quietly. I had a feeling this conversation was going to be similar to the brief one I'd just had with Percy, only a lot more volatile. It was a little like handling a bomb with a live fuse, and if I wasn't careful, it would explode and there would be no salvaging what was left of Zoë.

She didn't even acknowledge that she'd heard me at first. She just stared mindlessly off into the distance, and, if I knew her at all – which I did – I knew she was probably reliving and criticizing every decision she'd made since arriving at Westover Hall in Maine that had led to this. Her doubt and misery compounded with my own, making it even more difficult to accept Bianca's death, but I did my best to push it to the back of my mind for now. I was afraid that if I didn't draw Zoë out of this shell she was descending into, she'd allow the guilt and uncertainty to consume her.

But just as I was about to say something else, she finally spoke. "Yes, it is," she said, and I could hear in her hoarse voice how utterly devastated she was by the admission. Worse, I could tell that she truly believed it, too.

"No, it wasn't," I said fiercely, squeezing her shoulder affectionately for emphasis. "Bianca made her choice for all of us; there was nothing you could have done."

"But she would not have been here had it not been for my insistence," she said. She sounded more tired and weary – world-weary – than I'd ever heard her before. This was one of the few times that I was really reminded how long she'd actually walked this earth. "I pushed for her to come on a quest before she was ready. I hoped that it would give her valuable experience, and that all of our combined skills and leadership would be enough to protect her." She shook her head angrily, as if disgusted with herself. "The prophecy said two of the quest members were going to die. I _knew_ it said that, and I was still arrogant enough to believe that she could not possibly be one of them."

I stroked my hand slowly down her arm in an attempt to soothe her. "You can't blame yourself, Zo. Bianca knew what she was getting into. She died a hero's death."

"Perhaps, but still… it should not have been required. I was careless."

"I disagree," I said. "I think you did everything you could to keep her safe. I think that you were able to perfectly balancing protecting her with allowing her some responsibility. And I think that, for as inexperienced as she was, she carried herself like a true Hunter. In the end, she made the choice for herself to be the one to sacrifice herself for the quest."

"I know, but I should have –"

"Stop, Zoë," I said forcefully. "You have to stop. You just have to accept that there was nothing you could have done; that there was nothing any of us could have done. You're going to torture yourself into insanity with these thoughts if you continue this way. And if you do that, then Atlas and Kronos and the other Titans will have won. Is that what you want?"

That seemed to make a small breakthrough. "No," she replied softly. "No, it isn't."

"Then don't let them. Honor Bianca's memory by making sure that we save Artemis. Use the grief from her death to fuel your determination to see this quest through. But never, ever blame yourself. You know she wouldn't want you to."

Zoë nodded slowly, and lapsed into silence. I could tell she was still struggling to do what I asked of her, but that was fair enough. I knew she would need time. I couldn't and didn't expect her to get over something like that in just a few hours. Somehow, Thalia had managed to stay level-headed and laser-focused throughout the morning and early afternoon, but I suspected she was just doing what I'd suggested to Zoë: concealing and channeling her feelings about Bianca's death into anger and resolve in order to keep going.

We drove for hours, until the sun had climbed to its zenith in the sky. The day had warmed up by now, but it remained a dry heat that was mitigated by the refreshing wind (in part due to our speed), so traveling in the open air of the pickup bed wasn't unbearable. Zoë and I just sat there, taking comfort in each other's company, no longer feeling any need for words. I breathed in her fresh forest-y scent over and over again, reminding myself how lucky I was to have her by my side.

I didn't think Thalia knew exactly where we were going, but it's not like there were many options. We just followed the highway further out west.

Eventually, the road dead-ended at the edge of a canyon. A river had carved a giant gorge in the land, meandering through its path hundreds of feet below. The cliff walls roused uncomfortable memories of my father's cave in Death Valley; they were just as tall, towering over either side of the river, and formed out of the same reddish-brown sandstone.

Down at the riverbank, there was a wide section of flat land, and somebody had built a small canoe rental shack. There were steps carved into the side of the cliff, leading down to the shack, and again I was reminded of Death Valley.

Thalia parked the truck by the entrance to the steps, but a good distance away from the edge, and we all climbed out. My legs had fallen asleep from sitting in the same position for so long, so when I vaulted over the edge of the pickup bed, intending to land on my feet, my knees buckled and I fell straight on my face. No one said anything about it, though, other than a small half-smile from Zoë, both of which I was grateful for; the first part because I was embarrassed, and the second because it was the first sign of anything resembling a positive emotion she had shown today.

We picked our way carefully down the steps (Thalia far more carefully than the rest of us). Loose rocks and dust gathered on the flat planes of stone made them slippery and fairly dangerous, and it was a long drop down to the bank of the river below. Technically, I supposed that was the easy way to get down to the canoe rental, but understandably, none of us were very eager to try it out.

When we finally reached the river level, we huddled in front of the shack and observed the churning of the river as it flowed along. "We must head upstream," said Zoë. It was the first thing she'd said to anyone besides me since last night, and Thalia and Percy looked somewhat startled, but also relieved that she was trying to reclaim her role as quest leader. "But it may difficult; this section of the river forms rapids for many miles."

Percy cracked his knuckles and shrugged. "Don't worry about that," he said confidently. "I'll handle it."

Zoë and I hauled two canoes out of the shack and carried them down to the river, while Percy left a wad of cash and a quick note on the counter of the rental shack. As Zoë and I were lugging the small boats toward the water, I noticed Thalia stop Percy with a hand on his arm and say something to him, but I was too far to hear what, and the wind would have snatched away the words even if I wasn't. My distraction almost caused me to drop one of the canoes on Zoë's toes, earning me a quick glare, so I turned my attention back to the task at hand.

Percy and Thalia rejoined us from their impromptu discussion as we were loading the canoes into the river. Percy used his control over water to hold the canoes in place while we climbed in, so they wouldn't float away without us.

I climbed into the one at the back and picked up the paddle, then settled in to wait for Zoë to join me. But when I looked up from examining the paddle, it was Thalia who was stepping from the shore into the front half of the boat I currently occupied. I glanced past her to the canoe in front of us and saw Percy and Zoë seated inside.

I raised a bemused eyebrow at Thalia and prepared to argue the traveling arrangements, but she gave me a dirty look that said, _Go on, do it – I dare you._ I closed my mouth. I was pretty sure she was up to something, and I didn't like being separated from Zoë right now (even if she was still only a few feet in front of me), but I decided it might be better just to suck it up and play along.

Percy released his hold on the canoes, and I lowered the paddle down into the water and got ready to start stroking. But it turned out I didn't need to. When the paddle broke the surface of the river, I almost speared a naiad in the face. "Oops," I said. "Uhh, sorry." She blew a quick stream of water into my face, giggled, then swam away.

Ahead of us in the other canoe, Percy seemed to be having a conversation with one of them. He was leaning over the edge of the boat, his face a foot from the water, though his mouth wasn't moving. Then he smiled in satisfaction and sat back, and all of a sudden, we rocketed forward up the river.

I reclined against the back of the canoe and relaxed, letting the naiads carry us where we wanted to go. I drew my knees up so that my legs weren't awkwardly brushing up against Thalia's back or side, or worse, her butt. Trust me, if you value your ability to reproduce, never, _ever_ touch Thalia's butt.

It was nice to have some alone time to rest and try to process everything that was going on. I wasn't really alone in the canoe, of course, but Thalia hadn't said anything since we got in, and I was in the back, so she couldn't see my facial expressions or what I was doing and comment on it. Because of that, it was easy to forget she was there.

I thought mostly about Bianca, of course. How could I not? I couldn't get past the conversation I'd had with her less than an hour before she died. I thought about how she'd been the first one to perceive that there was something between Zoë and me, and I remembered how I had thought to myself at the time that I couldn't wait to see how much her intuition had improved in a few decades' time.

Now that time would never come.

I had to admit, it made me question the value of immortality. When I'd been dying of deadly poison, I would have jumped at the chance to be offered immortality, but now I wasn't so sure. If this was what it was like to experience the death of someone close to you, how could someone endure this for eternity as they outlived everyone they ever know? How did Zoë do it? How did Artemis and Marethyu do it?

My train of thought suddenly slammed into a brick wall. Marethyu… he'd been the one to dump us outside the junkyard of the gods in the first place. He had to have known what was going to happen to Bianca, and he hadn't even bothered to warn me! I clenched my fists, filled with irrational anger. He could have saved her! He could have even transported us somewhere past the junkyard, where we wouldn't have even had to deal with the danger in the first place!

But just as quickly as my anger had set on, it drained away. The words of the Oracle kept hissing over and over again in my head: _One shall be lost in the land without rain._ No matter how cruel and unfair it was, Bianca's sacrifice had been meant to happen; it was ordained by the Fates, and I doubted anyone – even Marethyu – could have changed her destiny.

As strange as it may seem, that thought actually gave me a shred of closure. I recognized that my anger towards Marethyu was just a factor of me searching for someone, anyone, to blame. But the truth was that the moment the Oracle spoke those words of the prophecy – maybe even before that, on the day Bianca was born – her fate was sealed. And that knowledge made me feel just a tiny bit better. There really was nothing anyone could have done to save her.

Of course, those morbid considerations inevitably led me to think about the final line of the prophecy, too: _And one shall perish in another's place._ It sounded like Bianca's sacrifice wasn't going to be the only one our group suffered before this quest was over. I took a good look at Thalia, then Percy and Zoë in the other boat. I tried to imagine life without any of them, and the thought made my heart clench painfully – particularly when I thought about the possibility of Zoë dying. All three of them, even Thalia and Percy, had wormed their way into my affections, just like Bianca, and I didn't know how I'd be able to get through it if one of them were to die.

And yet, whether I would able to recover from it or not, it was all but guaranteed to happen. That was a chilling thought.

Thalia happened to glance back at me. I must have been making a pained or sour face, because she said, "You alright back there, Moonbeam?"

I scowled. "Don't ever call me that again."

She held up her hands in mock-surrender. "O-o-okay, geez. Somebody's in a bad mood."

"It's kind of hard not to be," I said dryly.

She at least had the decency to look guilty this time. "You're right. Sorry," she apologized. I waved her off. She turned back around to face the bow, and I figured that was going to be the end of our conversation. But, still with her back facing me, she said, "Really though, Orion… are you okay?"

Her tone was very un-Thalia-like; it was tentative and concerned, words that I would hardly ever use to describe her. It made me stop and seriously consider her question, because I felt like she was actually worried about me and wanted to know the answer.

After a minute, I said, "I think so. I mean, it's still painful and I still feel kind of empty when I think about it, and I imagine that won't go away for a long time. As much as I don't want to accept that it was preordained or whatever and there was nothing we could have done, I think I'm closer to getting there. And knowing that does help a little a bit."

She nodded. "I know what you mean."

"What was it you said to Percy earlier?" I asked her, because my curiosity wouldn't let me ignore it.

Thalia pulled out her mace canister and started absentmindedly twirling it between her fingers. "I asked him to ride with Zoë," she answered.

I quirked an eyebrow at that, forgetting that she couldn't see me. "Why?"

"Because I was worried about her," she said, as if it should have been obvious.

I'll be honest, I was a little offended by that. "What, and you thought I couldn't help her?"

She shook her head. "No; quite the contrary, in fact. I knew you could." She finally turned and faced me again, giving me a look that told me she had guessed at the reason for my closeness with Zoë. "But I was worried that the two of you would just shut us out and isolate yourselves. I asked Percy to ride with her so that she would hopefully have to open up to someone besides you for once."

"Is it such a bad thing that she trusts me?"

"Of course not. But you know just as well as I do that if you were the one in that boat instead of Percy, neither you nor Zoë would ever talk to him or me about your feelings."

She was definitely right, I couldn't argue that. Because of our shared history, Zoë and I were accustomed to relying only on each other, coupled with the fact that we were both just naturally disinclined to open up to people. But I also felt like this was a bit of a case of pot-and-kettle. "You're not exactly an open book yourself," I pointed out.

She shrugged. "Maybe not. But I was also a tree for seven years."

I supposed she had a point there.

Thalia let the subject drop after that. There were a few moments of awkward silence, then she brought up the topic I'd been expecting her to interrogate me about. "So," she said, and her tone had lost its previous qualities of concern and vulnerability. Now, it sounded akin to how I assumed a police detective might sound when questioning a suspect. "Is there something you want to tell me about you and Zoë?"

I met her keen gaze unflinchingly, something I took great pride in. "Not particularly," I said.

"You sure?"

I pretended to think. "Fairly."

"Mmm." Her eyebrow looked like it was trying to merge with her hairline. Her expression read, _Right, and I'm a big fluffy panda._ Clearly, she didn't believe me.

"Why do you ask?" I ventured, knowing full well where it would lead.

"Well, you know, I just thought that the two of you have been awfully chummy lately is all."

"'Awfully chummy'? Have you been watching more of that stupid British Sherlock show?"

"So what if I have? And Benedict Cumberbatch is not stupid."

"Mhmm. Whatever, Thalia."

"Don't change the subject!" she growled. "I'm serious. There's something going on between you two, and I want to know what."

I groaned dramatically. "Ugh, now you sound like Silena Beauregard," I moaned. "Zeus save me from the relationship guru!"

She clenched and unclenched her fists several times and took deep breaths to calm herself. I snickered inwardly at how easy it was to irritate her. "Orion," Thalia said, her voice now dangerously calm. "Tell me what is going on or so help me Zeus…"

I sighed. "You always ruin the fun," I complained. Then my voice took on a slightly hardened edge. "How is it any of your business what's going on between Zoë and me?"

She smirked triumphantly. "So there _is_ something going on!"

I gave a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe there is. Maybe we have a little bit more than a friendship. Maybe we've secretly been together for a couple of weeks behind my mother's back. Maybe we're even in love." I leaned back casually and crossed my arms over my chest, smirking right back at her. "Or maybe not."

My theatrics did little to distract her, unfortunately. I was hoping that if I phrased it in the way that I did, in the tone that I did, she would assume I was lying.

It didn't work.

Instead, she saw right through to the truth of my words – because, of course, they _were_ true. A scowl appeared on her face. "Oh, that's rich," she said. "Who is she to lecture me about how 'boys are pigs' and 'will only let you down' or whatever when she goes and gets together with one?"

"Maybe she did it because she knew she was right about Luke," I said before I could stop myself. I didn't think about the words before I let them out, and as soon as I did, I regretted it.

Thalia's face reddened with anger. Her electric-blue eyes sparked dangerously. She reached out with one hand and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. "Don't _ever_ presume to think you know _anything_ about Luke," she snarled.

"Then don't presume to think you're an expert on Zoë," I snapped back, Thalia's ire sparking my own. I wrenched myself from her grasp. "Her choices are her own."

"Then maybe she needs to learn to take responsibility for those choices!"

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

She stared at me for a moment longer, then shook her head out of annoyance or frustration, I couldn't tell, and turned away. She was still gripping the side of the canoe hard enough to make her knuckles white, and I knew she was still angry. So was I, but I was reluctant to commit to a larger confrontation with her in such a confined space.

So instead, I made faces at her back like the mature young adult I was and held my tongue… for now.

* * *

The rest of the boat ride for us was charged with tension, but fortunately, our current method of travel soon reached its conclusion.

We rounded a bend in the river, and a huge shadow fell over us. I looked up, and I was so astounded I almost toppled backwards out of the canoe. Once I'd steadied myself, I gaped at what I saw in front of me.

I'd heard of Hoover Dam, of course. I mean, let's be honest: who hadn't? But I think we can all agree that hearing about something and seeing it in person are two completely different things.

The sheer size and scope of the dam took my breath away. In essence, it was really just a giant curved slab of concrete stretched between the two walls of the gorge where the river resided. But it towered hundreds of feet above our heads, cutting an imposing figure at the end of the river.

Percy waved his paddle in the air until he caught our attention, then motioned over to an outcropping of rock to our left that was low enough to the river to disembark on. I guessed the naiads had left, because our boat was no longer moving; we had to actually row the dozens yards or so over to the bank (the horror!).

Once we were close enough to the shore, Percy used some of his power to hold the canoes steady for us while we climbed out. I went first, then offered my hand to Thalia to help. She promptly ignored it and clambered out on her own. I huffed and rolled my eyes, which she didn't see. When we all stood assembled on solid ground once more, the now-empty canoes floated back downstream, caught in the throes of the current without anything left to hold them against it.

Percy stared up at the dam and sighed. "Hoover Dam," he said wistfully. "Seven hundred feet tall, built in the 1930s."

"Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said, in the same tone.

"Largest construction project in the United States," Percy added.

Zoë and I flicked our heads between them as if we were watching a tennis match. "Lovely," I said sarcastically. "Thank you for those incredibly interesting and useful facts. How in Hades do you even know all that?"

"Annabeth," said Percy. "Daughter of Athena, so she loved architecture. She used to spout random facts like that all the time. It was so annoying." He sighed again. "I wish she were here."

Thalia nodded in agreement.

Zoë squinted as she directed her gaze to the top of the western cliff. "There looks to be a parking garage up there," she declared.

"Which means cars," I observed. "And roads."

"Indeed," she said. "We should be able to find a way to continue our journey with relative ease. But first… perhaps we should find something at the dam to eat. I am famished."

"That shouldn't be too hard," said Thalia. "There's a snack bar in the visitor center."

"You've been here before?" Percy asked, surprised.

"Once," she replied. "There are two metal guardian statues at the top that were placed there and dedicated to Zeus by Athena. I came to see them."

The mountains closer to the dam seemed to be even more treacherous than the ones where we had put in to the river. It took us a while to find a path up to the road that looked to be passable, and even then, it was probably an hour before we finished the climb and struggled to the top of the dam. By then, we were all drenched in sweat and breathing hard.

We walked along the top of the dam, heading towards the visitor center. On one side of us, the same desert mountains we'd been seeing for ages ringed the largest man-made reservoir in the U.S., Lake Mead. On the other side, the wall of the dam dropped down to the river below, churning white with rapids from the discharge of the dam. I knew that definitely was not a place you wanted to find yourself. The force of that water would undoubtedly make it nearly impossible to break the surface.

I noticed Thalia kept well away from the sides of the walkway, another sign of her ironic fear of heights. I thought about making a taunting remark about it – I was still angry with her, of course – but even I wasn't going to be _that_ petty.

We were about halfway to the visitor center when I heard a sound that didn't make any sense in our location: "Moo!" I peered around in confusion. How could there be a cow on the Hoover Dam?

Thalia and Zoë didn't appear to have noticed it, but Percy did. He suddenly froze. The two girls soon realized we were no longer right behind them and turned back to us, their faces perplexed.

"What is it?" Zoë asked.

"Uhh, nothing," Percy said. "You guys go on ahead, I want to check on something real quick. I'll be right behind you."

Zoë and Thalia glanced at each other and shrugged. They began moving along the walkway again. After one more curious glance at Percy, I followed.

"Snack bar" was hardly an adequate word to describe the set up at the visitor's center. "Food court" would have been closer to accurately doing it justice. It didn't look all that big from the outside, but on the interior, nearly three-quarters of the entire structure was dedicated to metal tables and cheap fast food restaurants. There was a pizza place, another taco stand, a deli and sandwich shop, and a place that served Asian food. The rest of the open space was taken up by a large desk with a sign that said "INFORMATION AND TOURS" in big bold letters hanging over it. There were two elevators situated along the wall next to the desk.

The three of us selected a table by the wall, trying to remain inconspicuous, then split up to gather our various preferred meals. Thalia headed straight for the pizza place. Zoë and I both went for a sandwich.

Once we all had our food, we sat down at the table to wait for Percy. None of us said anything. The atmosphere was taut with anxiety and tension, and not just because of my ongoing conflict with Thalia. Percy had said he would be right behind us, but we had spent probably ten or fifteen minutes in line for our food and there was still no sign of him. We were all starting to worry about him; you could see it in the tightness of Thalia's jaw and the way Zoë's eyes restlessly scanned the crowd for signs of danger.

Just when I was about to suggest that it might be a good idea to go look for him, one of the elevators opened its doors with a pleasant _ding_ , and Percy came barreling out. His eyes were wide with panic and his breathing was short.

"We need to go," he gasped out when he reached our table. "Right now!"

Zoë cursed and shot to her feet. "He's right. Look!"

I swiveled around and rose as well. The other elevator had opened, revealing the four skeletons in gray military camouflage that were now approaching us. There was a scream to our left, and I spun to see four more skeletons blocking the door where we had come in. I turned to assess the other door, our last exit out of the visitor center, and found myself staring into the malicious yellow eyes of the last four _spartoi_. Each one wielded a short sword of sharpened human bone.

We were surrounded.

"We're gonna have to fight our way out," I said. I was pleased when my voice came out sounding a lot more confident than I felt.

Thalia's spear jumped to her hands. Her fear-inspiring shield, Aegis, appeared on her arm. "Four on each exit," she said. "Even odds wherever we go. What do you think?"

"The door we came in," Zoë instructed, drawing her hunting knives. "It's closest to the parking garage."

We nodded.

I gave us a count. "One, two, three… NOW!"

In unison, we charged towards the four _spartoi_ guarding the main door. We knew we had to deal with them quickly, before the other two groups caught up to us and boxed us in, so we focused all our efforts towards the ones in front of us. We didn't bother trying to wound them – we knew they would just reform themselves fully. Instead, we tried to bust through them with brute force.

It worked pretty well, actually. Thalia led the way with Aegis. The skeletons weren't cowed by the head of Medusa engraved on its front, but we didn't need them to be. Thalia just held the shield in front of us to block any possible retaliation from our foes, and we plowed into them with enough force to disconnect one's clavicle and dislodge another's spinal cord. Then we leaped over the injured skeletons that were already starting to knit themselves back together and emerged out into the sunlight.

"Impossible," Zoë said, her voice quavering.

Somehow, the eight _spartoi_ we thought we'd left in the snack bar had appeared in front of us to cut us off. They were chattering their teeth excitedly, closing in on us from all sides.

"We can't let them lock us in!" I shouted. We struck out in desperation at two of the skeletons, trying to do anything we could to prevent being completely cut off. We were outnumbered three-to-one, but unlike our enemies, we had something to fight for.

I had never been involved in a skirmish that large before, and the fight was unbelievably chaotic. Pieces of bone were flying everywhere, and it was a struggle just to control my katana to make sure I didn't accidentally land a blow on Percy or Thalia or Zoë. After just a couple of minutes, I could tell the fight wasn't going well. We were slowly being forced back towards the two golden statues Thalia had talked about when we first got here.

The turn for the worse came when no one but me was paying attention.

The thing about being outnumbered in a fight like that is that it's hard to keep your focus when there are so many enemies coming at you at once. Thalia was engaged in combat with two of the _spartoi_ , keeping one at bay with her shield and the other with her spear, but there was another that was sneaking up on her from behind.

I had a brief moment of déja vu. The situation happened just as it had the day I'd saved Zoë's life in the forests of Pennsylvania. Time slowed to a crawl. I watched the skeleton's blade plunge toward the back of Thalia's neck as if were moving through molasses. She must have sensed the danger, and she began to turn, but it was far too late. Before the weapon could reach its target, I acted.

I sprang forward and collided with the offending _spartoi_ in the most perfectly executed football tackle of my life. It chittered in frustration at being deterred from its goal, and the force of my impact knocked its bone-sword out of its hand.

Unfortunately, it also propelled the both of us into the side of the dam's walkway. The skeleton, in an adept move I never would have seen coming, threw itself to the ground and flipped me over itself in a catapult maneuver, sending me careening over the edge of the dam.

"Orion!" Zoë screamed. My last image of my three companions was with their backs pressed up against the pedestals of the golden statues, staring down at me with wide eyes and surrounded by monsters. Then the edge of the dam obscured my vision.

As I plummeted towards Lake Mead, my brain chose that moment to remind me of the line of the prophecy I'd been thinking about earlier that day – how _one shall perish in another's place_.

I couldn't help but find it terribly ironic that in all my contemplation about how I would be affected if one of the others were to die, I had never even once stopped to consider that the prophecy's final line might have been referring to me.

* * *

 **:O Oh no!**

 **P.S. Thalia is so difficult to write; I always feel like I'm butchering her character.**


	15. Chapter 15: The Final Stage

**Sorry for the long delay... this was another tough chapter. On the plus side, only 2 more to go (and the epilogue). They'll probably be slightly shorter too, like this one.**

 **Anyways, fav/follow/review as always, and enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 15: The Final Stage

I remember hearing somewhere that if you landed the wrong way, falling from a great height and colliding with water can be as devastating as if you had crashed into concrete. I really wasn't looking to become an Orion Omelet, so I tucked my hands into my sides and made myself as aerodynamic as possible, my feet pointing down at the lake beneath me.

The wind howled in my ears and tore at my hair as I hurtled through the air like a bullet. Obviously, this wasn't an ideal situation, but I was incredibly grateful that I had at least fallen from the lake side of the dam rather than the river. For one thing, the drop was much shorter, but the water was also serenely still on this side. The discharge vents emptying into the river prevented that on the other side.

Despite the smaller distance, I didn't escape the fall unscathed, even in my streamlined position. When I made contact with the lake water, the force of the impact caused my left ankle to twist abruptly to one side. I heard the unmistakable _snap_ of a fracturing bone, accompanied by a flare of agony. Then the rest of me went under.

My first instinct was to scream out from the intensity of the pain and the chilly temperature of the lake, but considering I was underwater, that probably wouldn't have been a good idea. I settled instead for contorting my face into some sort of a cross between a grimace and a snarl. I kept my eyes closed under the water – it would have been too murky to have more than a shred of visibility, anyway – and kicked up towards the surface with my hands and uninjured foot.

I broke the surface with a shuddering gasp, partly because I needed oxygen and partly from the distress my clearly broken ankle was causing me. I had ended up a few dozen yards away from the side of the dam, and miraculously close to the rocky shore. That was nice, because I wasn't sure how far I could swim with my new injury.

I launched into a rather lopsided swimming stroke, once again being careful to relax the leg of my broken ankle and only kick with the other foot. It was tough work, and I was gritting my teeth in discomfort the whole time, but I was able to struggle over to a small indent in the rocks that looked like it would be a good spot to climb up. I grabbed onto the rock and began hauling myself up out of the water.

When I was almost all the way out, my injured ankle accidentally brushed against the sandstone. This time, I couldn't stop the agonized cry that escaped my lips. Tears sprung involuntarily to my eyes, and I nearly lost my hold on the rocks and slipped back into the lake. I clung to them in desperation, just trying to ride out the waves of pain emanating from my ankle.

Eventually, the suffering ebbed to a point where it was bearable once more, and I sucked in a deep, steadying breath. _You can do this, Orion_. Inch by inch, foot by foot, I placed one hand in front of the other and pulled myself the rest of the way out of the water. At last, I collapsed on the rocky shore.

I didn't notice it until I was fully out of the lake, but the chill of the water had actually served to slightly numb the throbbing of my ankle. Now that it was no longer submerged, the ache that had been there (before I inflamed it by smashing it on the rocks, anyway) intensified tenfold.

I bit down on my bottom lip so hard I drew blood. It helped distract me a little from my more serious injury, but still not enough. I needed to get some nectar and ambrosia as soon as possible, but my pack was lost, probably somewhere back up at the top of the dam. I had no materials that I could use to splint it, so that was pretty much out of the question, too. I didn't have any drachma to send an Iris-message, no cell phone to make a call (not that I knew anyone's phone numbers even if I did have a phone), and presumably, I couldn't expect any help from the gods or Marethyu if I were to pray and ask.

I sat up, leaning my back against the rocks, and allowed my gaze to drift back up to the top of the dam. I sighed. It seemed that finding a way to get back up to the dam was my only viable option at this point. From there, I would hopefully be able to find transportation to San Francisco and get at least temporary treatment for my foot. Besides, I needed to find out what had happened to Zoë and the others. I prayed with all my being that they had been able to escape the _spartoi_ , but I had to know for sure… for better or for worse.

Of course, I wasn't even sure I could make it all the way back up to the visitor center without fainting from the strain and torment of my ankle. But nonetheless, I had to try.

Incredibly slowly, I raised myself into a standing position, steadying myself by grasping onto an outcropping of rock. I carefully tested my balance, and my ankle seemed okay as long as I didn't put any pressure on my left foot.

But right as I was about to take a tentative step forward, I realized my predicament. There was no way I was going to be able to walk, even by using the rock wall for support. I couldn't splint my foot, so I couldn't risk damaging it even more by putting weight on it, which meant that I really had no way forward. I sank back down into a sitting position and dropped my head into my hands. My ankle ached constantly, mocking me.

What was I supposed to do now? I'd gone and gotten myself separated from the group and injured to the point where I couldn't even walk; how was I supposed to located reunite with the others like this?

The answer, as it is wont to do, came from the most unlikely of places. "Moo!"

I frowned. Hadn't I heard a similar noise when we were up at the dam?

The sound came again, more insistent this time. "Mooooo!"

I glanced around, bewildered. I didn't see a cow anywhere, or indeed anything at all that could have been capable of producing such a noise.

Then I heard it a third time. "MOOO!" This time it was accompanied by a splash of water in the lake at my feet. I looked down.

One of the strangest creatures I'd ever seen was staring back at me with wide, soft brown eyes. It had the front half of a baby cow, with black fur and a white muzzle and two short little legs. Its back half, though, looked like a giant eel, a serpent tail with fins running down it. It was actually pretty cute, sliminess aside. The creature puzzled me, though. I had no clue what in Hades the thing even was, let alone what it was doing here of all places.

I scooted down to the water's edge and cautiously reached out a hand to the creature. It just continued staring at me innocently with those adorable brown eyes, and then stuck its head forward and sniffed my fingertips. I guess it liked what it found, because it "Moo!"ed contentedly and lovingly rubbed its stubby little nose against my hand.

"Hey, little guy," I cooed. "What are you doing here?"

"Moo!" he said. (Was it presumptuous of me to assume the creature's gender as male? Probably. Did I know if it even had a gender? Nope. …Did I care? Not particularly.)

I regarded the cow serpent balefully. It wasn't like I'd expected an answer I could understand, but still… I would have at least liked a change in tone, or maybe a flick of a paw or something.

As if he had read my mind, he turned and swam a few yards out into the lake, waving a foreleg at me. "Moo!" he said again. It looked he was actually trying to communicate something to me, and he just kept mooing and flapping his legs in the water. It was almost as if…

"Do you want me to swim out there with you?" I asked. I could have been imagining it, but it looked like his actions became more frantic when I said that. _O-o-okay… it's worth a shot, I guess_.

Still moving carefully in order to avoid a repeat of what happened when I climbed _out_ of the water, I slowly lowered myself to the waterline and slipped back into the lake. The cold wasn't so bad the second time around, especially for my ankle. In fact, whatever the cow serpent wanted me to do, floating in the lake was probably more beneficial to my health than resting on the shore. The water wasn't so cold that I would need to worry overmuch about hypothermia, but it was enough to keep my foot from swelling.

My new friend was waiting patiently for me. When I reached him, he dove under the water and disappeared. A stream of bubbles trailed up and popped on the surface.

After a few minutes of me treading water all alone, the creature returned. He wore a confused look on his face, as if he wanted me to follow him underwater and couldn't understand why I hadn't.

"I can't breathe underwater, little buddy," I explained. "I'm not a son of Poseidon." I felt a little silly talking to him as if he was a ten-year-old, when this thing was probably thousands of years older than me. But I couldn't help it; he was just so damn adorable.

The cow serpent swam up to me and nuzzled his face against my chest. Then he turned around to face away from me, reached behind him with one leg, and patted his hoof on his back.

I stared at him. Then it hit me. "You want me to hold on?"

The creature's head bobbed up and down, like it was nodding.

 _Well, it's not the craziest thing I've ever done…_ I sighed. "Oh, whatever." I draped my arms over the back of his neck and held on as tightly as I could without hurting him. Then I shut my eyes and prayed to every god I knew that this was the right choice.

"Moo!" I took a deep breath, and with that, he submerged under the water, taking me along for the ride.

Unfortunately, as I'd predicted, traveling with the mysterious cow serpent didn't afford me the power of breathing underwater. It would have been cool, but sadly, no dice. Luckily, though, I didn't need that ability. It turned out that our trip wasn't very long at all.

We had been underwater for maybe twenty seconds when I felt something shift. I still had my eyes closed, but the water seemed… different somehow. You know that feeling you get when you're so tired that you doze off for a few seconds in the middle of whatever you're doing? Until you get your bearings back, you're really disoriented for a little while because you don't know how much time has passed, and you feel like you've missed something important even though you thought you were only out for an instant.

That's the feeling I was suddenly hit with. I couldn't explain exactly what had caused it, Maybe the water was warmer, maybe it was colder; maybe it was saltier, or dirtier. Whatever it was, I knew _something_ was different.

Then we emerged from the water, and I felt a warm sun shining on my face. I opened my eyes… and in my surprise, I nearly lost my grip on the cow serpent.

The easily recognizable skyline of the city of San Francisco was spread out before me. To the right, the hill on which the Coit Tower stood rose like a lone tree above the plains of houses. The infamous island of Alcatraz sat derelict about a mile-and-a-half off the coast. To my left, the Bay Bridge stretched out across the water, connecting the peninsula to the mainland of California. Directly in front of me were the distinctive piers and skyscrapers San Francisco was known for. I couldn't see it from where I was, but I knew that around the point of the peninsula, the magnificent Golden Gate Bridge spanned the entrance to the bay.

I peered incredulously down at the cow serpent. "How did you just do that?"

"Moo!" he replied.

"Ahh, I see." I nodded knowingly, as if I had figured out what in Hades just happened. (I hadn't.)

He started swimming again, above the water this time, heading towards the piers in front of the Embarcadero Building. I decided to trust that he knew where he was going. Obviously he had some idea, since he'd led me here, but I still wasn't sure exactly what to make of the creature. He seemed friendly enough, but I couldn't get over the fact that he had appeared _exactly_ when I needed help in _exactly_ the place where I had been stranded. I've learned that those types of "coincidences" in the world of the Olympians are never usually coincidences.

As we cruised through the water, I tried to devise a plan to find my friends. I still had no way of knowing whether they'd made it off of Hoover Dam alive, and even if they had, I had no way of contacting them. And they probably thought I was dead, so I doubted they'd even be looking for me.

I realized with that thought that, in actuality, I was hardly any better off now than I was a few minutes ago. My ankle was still broken. I was still separated from my friends, and I still hadn't the foggiest clue how to go about rectifying the situation. I groaned in despair.

Then the cow serpent let out an excited "Moo!"

"What is _that_?" I heard a familiar voice say. I looked up in shock.

It seemed impossible, but there they were: Thalia, Percy, and Zoë, standing on the pier right in front of me. I could hardly believe it.

"Orion?" Zoë said. Was it me, or was her voice trembling?

I analyzed her face carefully, and her appearance struck me like a physical blow. Her beautiful obsidian eyes had lost their natural shine; they were dull and lifeless, empty, almost, and it scared me. But when she saw me, a spark of hope appeared in them.

I smiled comfortingly at her. "The one and only," I said.

They watched, still open-mouthed and frozen, as I gingerly climbed out the water and up onto the pier. For a moment, I just stood there in front of them, as if reassuring them that it was really me – that I was really there.

Finally, Zoë abruptly stepped forward and embraced me. She held onto me as if I would disappear if she let go, and I relaxed into her arms. I allowed myself to just forget about everything that was going on and just lose myself in Zoë's fresh, piney forest scent for a moment. I was just relieved that she was okay, and that we'd been reunited.

Then Thalia cleared her throat loudly, and the moment was ruined. "Are you two done?" she asked flatly. Zoë and I pulled away, and as we did, I stumbled a bit to avoid putting weight on my ankle. I didn't entirely succeed, and winced at the sudden pain.

It didn't escape the others' notice. Zoë glanced down at my foot. "You're injured," she stated.

I grimaced. "Yeah, I, uhh… may or may not have broken my ankle. Do you guys have any nectar or ambrosia?"

Percy dug around in his pocket and produced a baggie with some crushed ambrosia squares in it. He offered it to me. "This is the best we can do," he said apologetically. "Welcome back, by the way. We were afraid we'd lost you." He glanced surreptitiously at Zoë.

I took the ambrosia from him and stuffed some of it into my mouth. Almost instantly, the lingering pain in my ankle began to diminish. I sighed happily, and gave Percy an appreciative smile. "Thanks," I said. "It'll take a lot more than a few skeletons knocking me off the top of a dam to keep me from helping my mother."

Thalia was giving me a strange look that I couldn't quite identify. It didn't look too friendly, though. I got the feeling she was still upset with me. "How did you get here?" she asked. "And what is that thing down there?"

I'd almost completely forgotten about the cow serpent. At Thalia's words, we all turned to regard him, and he stared back at us with those adorable brown eyes of his.

Percy looked at me quizzically when he saw the creature Thalia was referring to. "Hang on," he said. "How do you know Bessie?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Bessie? You know, whatever this thing is, I'm pretty sure it's a guy."

Percy's reply was cut off by Thalia. "Percy," she interjected. "Is that the monster Nereus was talking about?"

"Wait a minute," I said. "Who is Nereus?"

"The old man of the sea," said Percy. "When we were on the train to New Mexico, Apollo came to me and told me to seek him out when we got here. He said Nereus could tell us what the monster was that Artemis was hunting; you know, the one that supposedly had the power to destroy the gods." He glanced doubtfully down at the cow serpent. "Right before the two of you appeared, he said the monster was right in front of us."

We all joined him in peering at the creature. The poor guy didn't seem to like all the attention and skittered around nervously, rubbing its nose against Percy's feet.

"Um," I said. "I might be pointing out the obvious here, but am I the only one thinking that there's no way this little guy could destroy Olympus?"

"I am a fool," Zoë announced suddenly. "I know this story. This _is_ the creature Artemis was looking for. It is called the Ophiotaurus." The cow serpent made a contented lowing sound in response to the name, and I knew Zoë was right. "This whole time, we were expecting a monster like Typhon, something that could bring down Olympus with brute force. But that is not the case; it must be sacrificed. When the Ophiotaurus was born, the Fates ordained a prophecy that whoever killed it and sacrificed its entrails to fire would have the power to destroy the gods."

Thalia shivered. "The power to destroy the gods… that's insane."

"Indeed," purred a terrifyingly familiar voice from behind us. "And it is a power _you_ shall unleash, my dear Thalia."

The four of us turned in unison.

Standing in front of us, flanked by four human mercenaries wielding handguns, was Dr. Thorn, the manticore from Maine. He wore a feral smirk, and his mismatched eyes glinted with delight. The Ophiotaurus let out a panicked "Moo!" and dove under the water.

Thorn chuckled. "Well, this is quite the reunion, isn't it?" His head swiveled to observe us in turn, until his eyes finally locked with mine. "You," he growled, his pupils contracting with rage. "The upstart Hunter boy. If it weren't for you and your goddess' interference, I would have captured these half-bloods ages ago. I have a score to settle with you."

"Be my guest," I replied casually. "There's a pit in Tartarus that's got your name on it. I'd be more than happy to speed you on your way."

"Your insolence will be punished soon enough." With difficulty, he tore his attention away from me and back to Thalia. "Daughter of Zeus," he said. "There's an old friend of yours who wants to see you again." He smiled evilly. "We're going to take you to the mountain to meet him, and then… then you shall fulfill your destiny."

Thalia hesitated. "My… destiny?"

"Yes. You shall sacrifice the Ophiotaurus and burn its entrails in the flames, and then you will fulfill the Great Prophecy: you will turn sixteen, and you will destroy the gods and bring Olympus to ruin."

"You're wrong," Percy said. "Thalia won't destroy Olympus. None of us will. So you might as well give up now."

"Oh, Mr. Jackson, I'm afraid I can't do that. As I said, my employer wishes to speak with all of you. Even if I cannot persuade you, I am sure _he_ will."

I glanced beside me, and I saw the despair written on the faces of the others. We couldn't fight the mortals; not just on moral grounds, we actually had no weapons that could harm them. And if we made a move to attack, the incredible speed of Thorn's throwing spikes would cut us down before we could even blink.

Then I caught sight of a tear sliding down Thalia's cheek. And it suddenly hit me: she'd been in this situation before. The story was legend at Camp Half-Blood. I'd heard it too many times to count: how she had been traveling with three friends, chased by hundreds of monsters, and had sacrificed herself so that her friends could make it to Camp safely. Only this time, even her sacrificing herself wouldn't be enough to save us.

I looked at Zoë, and I saw the hopelessness in her expression as clear as day. I could tell that the grief of Bianca's passing and my apparent death was still eating away at her; I could see it in the weary set of her mouth and the slump in her posture. She looked terrible, but I didn't care. To me, she would always be beautiful, even in the face of certain death.

And Percy… his stance was one of grim determination. He knew we had no chance, but he was still ready to fight with all he had to try and get us out of this.

It struck me then exactly how much I'd come to care about these people. They'd become an integral part of my life even after such a short time, and I couldn't imagine what I would do without any of them. They had given up so much to help me rescue my mother, and now, in the end, we had failed. The thought was nearly unbearable.

Something began to build inside me. It started as a slight tug in my gut, but it increased in intensity until it felt like someone was trying to rip my insides out through my belly button. I doubled over and coughed. Then something strange happened. It was like my body acted of its own accord. I suddenly straightened, then I opened my mouth and screamed.

No sound came out (at least none that I could hear), but the four mortals dropped their guns and clutched their hands over their ears, crying out in pain. Even the manticore winced and growled, pawing at his head. The pressure in my gut began to diffuse, and as it did, the mercenaries began to transform. Thalia, Percy, and Zoë watched in amazement as the humans' backs hunched, their faces elongated, and their skin sprouted light brown fur. After a few more seconds, four grown deer were standing on the pier where the mortals had been.

Thorn, unfortunately, was unaffected beyond slight irritation. He growled at me again. "What have you done, boy?" he snarled. "What are you?"

I found myself suddenly drained of energy and out of breath, like I'd just finished a marathon. But I still found it in me to reply, "I'm the son of Artemis."

The manticore hardly had time to look astonished before Zoë's arrows, Thalia's spear, and Percy's sword pierced him through the neck.

"How did you do that?" Zoë asked. "To the mortals, I mean. I have never seen a half-blood with the power of transmutation."

I shook my head. "I don't know. It just kind of happened."

"Well, it was awesome," Percy said. "Terrifying, but awesome."

I shrugged sheepishly. "Thanks, I guess. But what do we do now?"

"We have to find Lady Artemis," Zoë said.

"And how do we do that?"

Zoë grimaced. "I'm afraid it is quite simple, actually. We must travel to my old home: the Garden of the Hesperides."

"And where's that?" Percy asked.

"Across the bay… on Mt. Tamalpais."

* * *

We walked through the city at an agonizingly slow pace.

After my little stunt on the pier, I was so tired I could hardly walk. If the ambrosia hadn't repaired my ankle enough to the point that it could bear weight again, someone would have had to carry me, because there's no way I would have made it more than a yard. Even so, I had to stumble along between Thalia and Zoë with one arm draped over each of them for support. I might have been embarrassed, if I wasn't too exhausted to care.

"We can't keep this up," Thalia grunted out after a while. "You said we have to get there before sunset… we'll never make it at this rate."

We stopped to rest at a bench on the sidewalk. "Most likely not," Zoë conceded grimly.

"We need a car," Percy suggested.

I tiredly raised a hand. "I second that motion."

Thalia thought for a moment. "I think I might know where we can get one." She pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper from her pocket. "Annabeth's dad, Dr. Chase, lives somewhere around here. Maybe he'll let us borrow his."

Fifteen minutes later, we found ourselves standing on the front porch of a nondescript townhouse somewhere in San Francisco's residential area. Thalia knocked on the door, and after a pause, it opened to reveal one of the strangest mortals I'd ever seen.

To start with, he had on huge brown aviator goggles that made his eyes bug out comically. His thinning hair was ruffled and messy, like Percy's, and his shirt collar was sticking up on one side. His appearance made him look terribly disorganized, like the kind of person you wouldn't want to trust with an important document.

"Hello," he greeted us cheerfully. "Are you here to deliver my planes?"

I exchanged a glance with the others and quirked an eyebrow. Percy cleared his throat. "Um, no, sir," he said. "We're here about Annabeth."

The man's entire countenance dropped at that statement. He straightened, and stood aside to allow us passage into his house. "You'd best come inside, then," he said.

The house looked exactly as Dr. Chase's disheveled appearance indicated it would. We walked through a short hallway into the living room, which was a treacherous minefield of discarded LEGO bricks and articles of clothing. Two younger children, probably nine or ten years old, were sitting on the floor and playing with some of the LEGOs. History magazines lay scattered across every surface imaginable. For all its messiness, the whole place carried an air of comforting homeliness, compounded by the lingering aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies that hung in the air.

I didn't know anything about Annabeth, but from what I could see of her family, I was somewhat jealous. It must be nice to be so… normal.

"Sorry for the mess," Dr. Chase apologized. "We can go upstairs and talk in my study."

We followed him up the stairs to the second floor and into his office. When he opened the door and we walked in, I looked around in amused puzzlement. The walls were covered floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves. I kid you not – not an inch of any wall in the room was visible. I couldn't make out many of the book titles without tilting my head, but the ones I did see weren't that remarkable; just boring stuff like _A People's History of the United States_ and _Untold Valor: The Second World War in the Pacific_.

The real impressive thing was the table that had been setup in the middle of the room. It looked like something you might find in a war history museum. It had been topographically stylized to resemble a battlefield somewhere in the world, and there were little toy soldiers in various positions on the field. A few biplanes even hung from strings attached to the ceiling.

"Wow," Percy said, voicing all our thoughts. "That's quite the setup."

"Thank you," Dr. Chase said proudly. "I'm doing a paper on the contribution of Sopwith Camel biplanes in strafing enemy lines. You see, I don't believe they've been given the credit they deserve."

It sounded like complete gibberish to me. None of the others looked like they had any idea what he was talking about either, but we all nodded anyway. "That sounds very cool, Dr. Chase," said Thalia. "And we'd love to hear more about it. But right now we need your help."

Dr. Chase's mood shifted back to seriousness. "Of course, of course," he said. "Is Annabeth alright?"

Percy hesitated. "Yes, she is," he said. "But she got separated from us, and we need a way to get to her."

"What he means," I interjected, "is that we need to borrow your car."

Thalia shot me a look like, _Really, Orion?_ Okay, so it may have been a little curt, but we had a deadline to keep. My mother's life depended on it, and for that matter, so did Dr. Chase's daughter's. I figured that would be pretty good motivation, right?

Apparently, it was. He pushed his aviator glasses up onto his forehead and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Right, of course. If Annabeth is in danger… I'll go get the keys right away." He hurried out of the room and back down the stairs.

While we waited for him to return, the rest of us gathered around the battlefield table and held an impromptu council. I picked up one of the soldier figurines and started absentmindedly toying with it in my hands.

"Am I the only one thinking that this is a bad idea?" Percy said.

"What do you mean?" Zoë asked him.

He shifted uneasily. "Well… isn't going to the mountain exactly what Dr. Thorn wanted us to do? Won't we be playing right into their hands?"

"It doesn't matter," I said, twirling the little soldier between my fingers and gazing distractedly at the assorted history titles on the bookshelves. "If Mt. Tam is where they're holding Artemis and Annabeth, then that's where we have to go, even if it's exactly what our enemies want. We don't have a choice. We have to save Artemis, and we have to do it tonight." I met each of the others' eyes in turn. "From the first day we set out on this quest, we knew what would be waiting for us at the end. But the simple truth of the matter is that we have to do this. So if I were you, I'd get ready for a fight, because the General" – here I glanced at Zoë – "and Luke" – and here at Thalia – "aren't going to make it easy for us." I emphasized my little pep talk by decisively placing the toy soldier back on the table. The others started at the unexpected noise.

Zoë nodded slowly. "Well said, Orion."

Thalia looked at me with grudging respect. "They want a fight?" she muttered. "Well, a fight's what they're damn well gonna get."

Percy nodded as well. "I won't let Kronos or his stupid army stop me from saving Annabeth."

Dr. Chase came back into the room at that point, jangling a set of keys. "Here you go, kids," he said. "I realize this could very well be too much to ask, but do try to bring it back in one piece." He tried to hand the keys to Thalia, but Zoë stepped in the way and took them before he could. Dr. Chase looked like he was going to make a comment, but Zoë gave him her patented evil eye. He swallowed and left the room.

We filed out behind him to find the car. As I walked past Zoë, she stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and leaned over to whisper in my ear. "You are an inspiring, honorable, and brave young man, Orion," she said. "Lady Artemis is lucky to have a son like you." Then she placed a short kiss on my cheek and moved away.

I swallowed the lump in my throat that her words had incited and followed her out silently.


	16. Chapter 16: The Final Showdown

**First off, sorry for the long delay between chapters. I've found as I've neared the end of this story that it is becoming increasingly difficult to find time to finish it. However, we only have one more chapter and the epilogue, so it's almost over, and then it'll be out of my hair (and I'll be out of yours).**

 **Also, I apologize in advance for the ridiculous length of this author's note. The chapter itself is actually only around 4k words, but it's going to appear far longer because of this A/N. The reason it's going to be so long is because I want to respond to a review left by the awesome Seigren. Normally, if my response to a review was going to be this long, I would just send it in a PM, but he brought up a lot of important points that I feel would be better if I gave my explanation to the readership as a whole, rather than just one person. So, buckle up, cuz this is gonna be a long one. If you really don't care and you just want to get straight to the chapter, go right ahead, but I encourage you to read both Seigren's review and this response.**

 **Seigren: I wouldn't say exactly that I'm tired of this story, but I will be relieved when it's finished, mostly because there are a lot of things that I'm unsatisfied with and I would like to do a complete re-write of the entire story later this year or early next year if I can find the time. However, I can see why you would think so. The "shortcuts" you mentioned are all a product of one factor that I've had to deal with in this story: it follows the major plot of _Titan's Curse_ , obviously. In the original storyline of the book, the characters often find themselves in sticky situations where the only thing that gets them out is the helpful assistance of a god or goddess that has suddenly appeared (i.e. Pan in New Mexico, Athena at Hoover Dam, the IM with Dionysus where he destroys the manticore... you get the point.) I wanted to avoid making people feel like they were just rereading the book from a different point of a view, so I decided to make some changes to the plot. Of course, when the original plot involves sudden and unexpected help from gods, it becomes tough to find other ways to help our heroes resolve their important issues. ****All the three things you cited are some of my attempts to do that: Marethyu, Bessie helping Orion, and Orion's out-of-the-blue use of a hitherto unknown power.**

 **Speaking of which, you said that the transmutation/metamorphosis scene felt "a little too convenient" and "rushed" or "mildly written." I'm sorry it came off that way, but here was my thought process behind it: as I've mentioned, in the book Dionysus saves them from the mortal mercenaries and the manticore, but I didn't want the same thing to happen in this story. I came at it from a different angle. I asked myself, _What demigod powers does Orion have as a son of Artemis?_ As I thought about it, I realized that the answer was... basically nothing. Sure, he has increased combat and archery prowess, as well as the ability to summon his sword/bow/arrows and draw energy from the moon... but those are all also powers of the Hunters, more or less. He didn't really have a real unique _power_ to call his own. So I thought, _Ok, well Artemis likes to transform men into animals... what if I gave Orion a limited version of that power?_ The thing is, this is a power Orion has never known about before, and when demigods are first discovering their powers, they tend to be highly unreliable and usually triggered primarily by extreme emotions (and preceded by a tugging in the gut; see Percy's first use of his water powers). In other words, Orion's desperation to save his friends and his mother triggered the emergence of a completely foreign ability for him. Maybe you still think that's cheesy, but that was how I looked at it.**

 **As for Bessie helping Orion, I realize there was no reason to expect anyone to know this, but in my head, I always just kind of assumed that Marethyu sent Bessie to him because he knew he would need him. Again, maybe that's too much, but... like I said, I had to find alternate ways of getting the characters out of bad situations (without godly help), so... yeah. That's the best I can do for that one.**

 **Your points about Krios are well-founded, and one of the many things I overlooked when writing the first half of the story. All I'll say about this is that that's one of the things I intend to change when I begin the re-write, which I fully plan on doing sometime in the (relatively) near future. The same goes for your comment about what happened after Orion's fall from the dam; the truth is, I _was_ rather struggling through that chapter, and that's one of the things I forgot to include. Again, will be remedied in the re-write.**

 **All in all, thank you for your incredibly detailed review. I hope I answered all of your points to your satisfaction. Thanks also for the kind words, I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far (at least mostly, haha). As for your challenge, the end was cut off. Did you want _me_ to draft out an alternate version or were you saying _you_ were going to?**

 **Anyways, that concludes my lengthy but necessary review response. Sorry for delaying the chapter, but at last, here it is. Enjoy, and fav/follow/review as always!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 16: The Final Showdown

The atmosphere in the car during the drive to Mt. Tam was subdued. There was no more time for idle conversations. We were almost to the end of our long journey, and now, we were dialed in and focused on our task.

It took almost an hour to get there. A threatening bank of stormy gray clouds swirled around the peak of the mountain like an isolated hurricane. The sun was sinking down towards the horizon, and the natural darkening of the sky only served to make the mountain more imposing.

About halfway up the mountain, we reached the end of the road. Forced to abandon the Chases' car, we continued on foot, keeping a careful watch out for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. The place was roiling with thick, silvery mist that made it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you.

When I asked her about the source of the mist, Zoë grimaced and said quietly, "Some of it is the mythical kind, generated from the aura of Titan magic that surrounds this place. Some of it is just natural mist. We must be on our guard from here; we are nearing the Garden."

Not long after she told me that, we reached the Garden of the Hesperides.

Despite the dragon curled up in the center of it, it was one of the most beautiful places I'd ever laid eyes on. The grass shimmered in the silvery evening light, and the flowers were such brilliant colors they illuminated the darkness in various hues of red, green, and blue. Staircases of polished black marble flanked either side of an enormous tree that was almost a hundred feet tall, each branch glittering with dozens of enticing golden apples of immortality.

"Whoa," I said, because I couldn't really think of anything else.

Percy started to say something, but Zoë quickly shushed him. "Quietly now," she warned. "We cannot afford to wake Ladon."

We all glanced fearfully at the dragon coiled around the trunk of the tree. I agreed that it was probably in our best interests for him to stay asleep.

With extreme caution, the four of us stepped onto the stairs to our right and crept up them as silently as we could. Zoë led the way, tiptoeing forward gracefully and soundlessly. I was setting my feet down so lightly I could've stepped on a live landmine and walked away with all my limbs intact. The others followed suit, and slowly but surely, we neared the Garden's exit at the top of the staircase.

But of course, it couldn't be that easy. It could _never_ be that easy.

We were a third of the way up when it happened. Maybe it was the wind, shifting directions to blow our scents towards Ladon. Maybe one of us made a sound we didn't realize. I don't know what caused it. But whatever the reason, I do know that one moment, we were sneaking our way past a sleeping dragon, and the next, that same dragon was staring angrily at us with two hundred big, yellow, wide-open, definitely-not-asleep eyes.

We hardly had any notice before Ladon's heads began dive-bombing us. "Run!" Zoë shouted at us.

The time for secrecy was over. Now, it was just about survival. We sprinted up the steps as fast as our legs would carry us, dodging the attacks from the dragon's heads or warding them off with Thalia's shield or our swords. My ankle began to throb dully, and I knew that if I pushed myself too much, ambrosia or not, I was likely to reinjure it. But it didn't matter; I didn't have a choice.

Finally the Garden's exit was within reach. It was a black stone arch, about fifteen feet tall and ten wide, with a torch burning on either side. Through the arch, a dirt path led further up the mountain, presumably to wherever my mother was being held captive.

Zoë arrived first. She reached down and locked arms with Percy, who had put on a burst of speed, and pulled him to her, tossing him through the arch. I had lagged behind because of my ankle, so Thalia got there next. She rejected Zoë's help and just threw herself in a dive to the other side.

My ankle was on fire. I knew for sure that it was broken again, but I couldn't focus on that. I had to focus on getting to the gateway.

I would never have made it if Zoë hadn't come back for me. She hooked my arm over her neck and helped me stumble up the last few steps to the arch.

But Ladon was still locked on to the intruders in his Garden. Right before we made it through the gate, one of his heads lunged forward and snapped at Zoë's side. She cried out in pain, and together we lurched across the threshold of the arch, collapsing on the other side.

Ladon growled at us from the tree, but he wasn't going to go any further. He had been trained to protect the apples of immortality, and that was more important than missing out on a meal of a few pesky demigods.

I sighed in relief. We had made it past the last threat and succeeded in reaching the final challenge of our quest – all that was left now was climbing to the peak of Mt. Tam and facing off against Atlas.

But then I remembered what had just happened, and my relief melted. Zoë was sprawled on the dirt, slowly struggling to her feet. I rushed to help her up. "Oh my gods, Zoë; are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

She nodded. "Yes, I am fine," she said. Thalia and Percy accepted her words, but I knew her better than that. I could see the way her hand shook almost imperceptibly as she clutched it to her side, the way she was subtly clenching her fist to deal with the pain. That injury from Ladon was more serious than she was willing to let on.

I communicated to her that I knew this by staring her dead in the eyes and raising an eyebrow. She shook her head, though, and motioned towards the mountain path. I got the message: _Don't worry about me right now, we have a goddess to save_.

We resumed trudging up the mountain until at last, we reached the peak.

I didn't know what I'd expected to find, but it wasn't this. The top of the mountain was smattered with ruins of black marble columns and bronze statues. Lone braziers mounted on bronze stands burned with Greek fire, but they looked out of place; they were the only things in the area that remained fully intact. The entire area carried an eerie sense of unease around it. It reminded me vaguely of Krios' palace, or how his palace might look if I were to one day fulfill my dream of destroying it.

"The ruins of Mount Othrys," Thalia said when we arrived. Her voice was hushed with a mixture of fear and awe.

"Mount Othrys…" I repeated slowly. "As in, the original mountain fortress of the Titans?"

"The very same," Zoë confirmed, her face grim. Her hands were clenched tightly around her bow. "The fact that it is _here_ , right now… this is not good."

"Why not?" Percy asked, ever the clueless one.

"Because this is the Mountain of Despair; the mountain where the Titan Atlas holds –" Zoë faltered, and when she resumed, her voice was choked with despair. "Where he _used_ to hold up the sky."

We had reached the very apex of the mountain, where a chilling and familiar sight awaited us. The swirling gray storm clouds we'd glimpsed earlier from afar were so dense here they looked like the solid roof of a cavern. At the point where they came closest to touching the mountaintop, my mother knelt, bound in chains, her silver Hunter's outfit in tatters, struggling to handle the weight of the clouds.

My blood ran cold, and I nearly forgot how to breathe. Zoë and I had long ago discerned that Atlas had found a way to trap Artemis under the weight of the sky, but it was one thing to talk about the possibility. It was completely another to actually see the expression of absolute weariness and agony that marred my mother's beautiful face.

Zoë and I dashed forward at the same time, and Artemis cried, "No, stay back! It is a trap! You must leave now!"

A cold, satisfied laugh echoed around us. "Oh, I'm afraid it's far too late for that."

We turned. A group of people had emerged from the roiling shadows, led by a man I could only assume was the General, Atlas. He was only seven or eight feet tall, shorter than his uncle Krios but somehow far more muscular, and he was wearing a brown designer silk suit. He looked like a living statue, with a hard, chiseled jaw and cheekbones and gray eyes like stone. His skin was light brown, like Zoë's, and his dark slicked-back hair resembled hers as well. He had impossibly broad shoulders and enormous hands, and he carried himself with the same air of regal arrogance that Zoë used to when I first met her.

To his right was the blond demigod I'd seen in a few of my dreams – Luke, I was pretty sure. He looked much worse than he had in my visions, though. The scar running down his cheek was pink and inflamed, and there were heavy bags under his eyes. Despite that, his expression was still equal parts venomous and triumphant.

At his side, the girl I remembered was called Annabeth stood with a gag in her mouth and her hands tied behind her back. Her blond curls were messy and speckled with dirt, and I thought I could see a streak of gray running through them. Though she was unable to speak, her striking gray eyes were pleading with us to run as far away from here as possible.

The last thing I noticed was the group of a dozen _dracanae_ standing in the back, bearing an all-too-familiar golden sarcophagus. I swallowed uncomfortably. That thing brought back a lot of painful memories. I could almost feel the corrupting power of its evil magic crawling over my skin like a parasite. It made me want to vomit.

Thalia levelled her spear at Luke's face. "Luke," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "Let Annabeth go."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Thalia. I can't do that."

Atlas chuckled. "Well, isn't this a lovely reunion?" he said. "So much for old friends, eh?"

Thalia sneered at him. "Luke lost all right to call me 'friend' the moment he betrayed us for Kronos." Luke looked pained at her words, as if he actually expected Thalia to side with him.

Atlas laughed again, then focused his gaze on Zoë. "Ah, Zoë. How is my favorite little traitor? Killing you will be a pleasure I have been denied for far too long."

Zoë didn't respond, but her grip tightened even further on her bow. My anger flared at Atlas' threat, and I allowed my katana to shimmer into existence. The flash of silver light drew everyone's attention – including my mother's. "Orion, no," she gasped out, sweat coating her forehead. "Do not challenge him!"

I stood protectively in front of Zoë, holding my sword casually at my side. "I won't let you hurt her," I growled, ignoring my mother's warning.

Atlas gazed at me amusedly. "Is that so?" he mused. "And who are you to interfere, young demigod? Orion, is it?"

"Atlas, is it?" I parroted back at him. "Krios sends his regards – from Tartarus."

His eyes narrowed. "Ah, so you are the brat that was my foolish uncle's plaything. If what you say is true, you will pay dearly for destroying him, demigod. I promise you that."

"We'll see."

"We shall indeed. And I must say, I am very much looking forward to it." Atlas turned his attention to Thalia. "As for you, Thalia, daughter of Zeus… well, it appears Luke was mistaken." He sent Luke a pointed look. "How unfortunate – for him."

"I wasn't wrong," Luke protested, but his voice was weak. He locked eyes with Thalia, and I thought I saw a hint of desperation enter them. "Thalia, please. There's still time for you to join us. You can call the Ophiotaurus; it will come to you if you summon it." His entire demeanor reminded me of a cornered wild animal, panicked but still dangerous. "Tomorrow you turn sixteen, just like the prophecy says. You can make the choice to sacrifice the Ophiotaurus and use its power to bring down Olympus."

Thalia just stared at him.

Luke's voice became more urgent. "Please, Thalia. If you don't join us, Kronos…" He faltered. "He'll use the other way." I didn't know what 'the other way' meant, but I could tell from the look on Luke's face that it wouldn't be good for him. His desperation for Thalia to defect to their cause could only be so serious if he genuinely feared that this other way would put his life in serious danger. "We aren't weak. Look."

He pointed down the mountain, and we found ourselves gazing down at an intimidating force of monsters marching up towards us at the peak. There were legions of _dracanae_ , hordes of hellhounds, and hundreds of other creatures that I had never seen before but definitely didn't want to get a closer look at. I felt my spirits deflate even more at the sight. There was no way we could even begin to fight all of them.

"Join us, and it can be just like old times," Luke continued, motioning between himself, Thalia, and Annabeth. "The three of us, together again, taking on whatever the world throws at us. Don't you want that?"

For a horrible moment, Thalia wavered, and it looked like she wanted nothing more than to believe him and to help him. But then she started shaking her head, slowly at first, and took a step back, repositioning her spear to point at Luke's face. "I don't know you anymore," she said. "You aren't the Luke I ran away with."

He flinched, but didn't respond.

Percy and Thalia glanced over at me and Zoë. The four of us communicated a silent understanding: we couldn't let that army reach us or we'd be overrun in a heartbeat. If we were going to make a move, it had to be now.

Thalia, naturally, charged straight for Luke. He drew his sword – a weapon I remembered from its strange appearance of mortal steel fused with celestial bronze – and the two former friends engaged in combat. The air around them crackled with electric sparks. Neither of them held back, and I knew that despite past connections, there would be no mercy shown in that fight – from either side.

That left Atlas for Zoë, Percy, and me. You would think that three against one would be pretty good odds for a fight, and in most cases, you'd be right. But when the one is the Titan of Strength and General of Kronos' Army, we would have been in trouble even if there were a dozen of us to take him on.

Atlas laughed as we approached. His designer suit morphed into a set of classical Greek armor and a huge spear appeared in his hand. "Very well then, heroes," he said. "If you wish to throw your lives away, I will happily oblige you… starting with you, Orion!" And with that, the fight of our lives began.

True to his word, Atlas launched himself at me first. He twirled his spear over his head, then slammed it down towards me in the blink of an eye. I barely had time to leap out of the way before the point of the spear embedded into the ground where I'd been standing the instant before.

I gulped. I had a little experience fighting Titans, of course, but Atlas even faster and stronger than Krios had been. Besides, we'd had the element of surprise on our side against Krios. Now, though, it was just a straight fight, and I didn't know for sure if we could even survive, let alone take Atlas down. There was something to be said for brute strength.

The Titan continued to come after me. Percy tried to distract him by slashing at his leg with his sword, but Atlas wouldn't be deterred. He shrugged off the blow and knocked Percy aside. The son of Poseidon flew through the air and landed somewhere on the ground near where Artemis was holding the sky.

I hoped he was okay, but I couldn't afford to worry about him right now.

Zoë pelted her father with silver arrows, aiming for chinks in his armor; his armpits, his knees, or his neck if she could hit it. But as accurate as her shots were, they did little more than irritate the Titan. He just kept coming for me.

Atlas swung his spear at my head. I ducked and rolled, bringing my sword up to scour his leg as I dove past him. He growled and lashed out with a spinning kick as he turned. It connected with my stomach, propelling me into one of the broken black marble columns.

While I slumped there on the ground, dazed and disoriented, Atlas strode leisurely over to me, continuing to ignore Zoë's arrows. His triumph was written in the evil grin on his face, and there was no way I would be able to gather myself together in time to save myself.

But then, before he could reach me, a new fighter entered the fray.

Faster than thought, Artemis streaked across my field of vision and launched herself at Atlas. She attacked with all the ferocity of a mother protecting her son, and Atlas stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned by her unexpected onslaught. Only then did the thought occur to my muddled mind… _If Artemis is fighting Atlas, who's holding the sky?_

I looked over and my eyes widened in surprise. Percy was kneeling on the ground, hefting the swirling gray clouds on his hands and shoulders. He'd been bearing it only a fraction of the time that Artemis had, yet he was already far worse for wear. He looked like he'd spent the night outside in the woods in the middle of a thunderstorm; his whole body was soaked with sweat and his shirt was peppered with small cuts. His wiry frame trembled with the effort of carrying the weight of the world.

After a while, I was finally able to recover my bearings enough to get back to my feet and refocus my attention on the battle. As she fought, Artemis was shifting her form in midair. She became a gazelle, spearing Atlas with her horns, then a wolf, raking him with her claws, then a white leopard, mauling him with her teeth. Because of her transformations and her speed, she was little more than a blur of silver dashing around the Titan General. I found myself awed by her display of skill; I'd never seen anyone – even an immortal – fight like that before.

But I'd spent enough time spectating. I needed to rejoin the fight.

My head was pounding and I was a little unsteady on my feet, but I was coherent enough to summon my katana and begin helping my mother deal with Atlas. Zoë continued to pepper him with arrows, trying to distract him and tire him. It helped a little bit.

After a few more minutes of skirmishing, Artemis' energy seemed to be flagging, but Atlas was still going strong. Finally, the Titan feinted towards her head with his spear, then quickly twisted and used it to sweep her feet out from under her. She lay on the ground, stunned and exhausted.

I dashed forward to try and protect her, but without the goddess to help me, I was no match for him. He parried my katana and punched me straight in the face. For the second time that night, I flew through the air and crashed hard onto the ground. Atlas stalked towards me with a malicious glint in his eye.

"I think I will destroy you first, son of Artemis," he gloated. "I will delight in the pain your death will cause her!"

In the gloom, I saw a blurry shape shoot through the air next to the Titan. Then, before he could skewer me, Zoë slammed into his side in a flying tackle.

It was a valiant attempt, but she might as well have tried to take down an elephant. Atlas barely staggered from the blow, and used the force of Zoë's own tackle to spin and throw her off. As she tumbled through the air, he struck out with his spear and sliced the point across her chest.

"ZOË!" I screamed.

She landed in a heap on the opposite side of the peak, unmoving. A horrible, numbing cold began to spread through me.

 _No… she can't…. she can't be…_

Atlas laughed cruelly. "You cannot seriously believe that any of you could have actually saved Artemis, can you?"

I didn't answer. I was too stunned to speak. I couldn't even form a coherent thought. There was only one thing going through my mind.

 _Zoë…_

With both of us out of the way, and Thalia still occupied with Luke, Atlas strode over to the prone form of Artemis with a triumphant smirk on his face. "You should be honored, Artemis," he said. "Yours will be the first blood in a new war!" He raised his spear above his head and stabbed it down towards her.

It never got there.

My mother must not have been as incapacitated as she had led Atlas to believe. As the spear thrust came towards her, she rolled out of the way and grabbed onto the shaft. Then she kicked the Titan in the chest and used the spear as a lever to catapult him over her head.

Atlas soared through the air, crashing into the hunched figure of Percy as he struggled to hold up the sky. As soon as Atlas made contact with him, the son of Poseidon released the weight and allowed himself to be knocked out of the way. The swirling gray mass of the sky landed squarely back on Atlas' shoulders.

"NO!" he howled. "NOT AGAIN!"

I breathed a short sigh of relief. Atlas wouldn't be bothering us anymore.

Artemis helped me back to my feet. We shared a solemn look. "Zoë," I said. She nodded.

We rushed over to where the Hunter had fallen, slumped on the ground. Her eyes were closed, but her chest still gently rose and fell. _Unconscious, then, not dead_. For how much longer, though…

"We need to get her out of here," I said, bending to lift her in my arms.

Artemis beat me to it; she picked Zoë up and carried her bridal style. "You have your own injuries to worry about, Orion," she said. "I will take care of Zoë."

Percy dispatched the last of the _dracanae_ and freed Annabeth from her bonds. The two of them, along with Thalia, approached my mother and I. I didn't see any sign of Luke.

"Where's Luke?" I asked, looking between the three of them.

An unreadable expression crossed Thalia's face. "He's… gone."

I hesitated. Percy subtly shook his head at me, so I didn't question her any further. Instead, I turned to my mother. "How are we going to get off the mountain? We'll never make it before that army gets here."

Artemis looked up into the night sky but said nothing. The moonlight brightened, then all of a sudden, a glowing silver chariot shimmered into existence and came to a halt in front of us. A team of beautiful silver deer were harnessed to the reins. "Hurry," she said. "Get in."

I didn't need to be told twice. As quickly as we could manage with our battered and bruised bodies, we all loaded into the chariot. Artemis gently laid Zoë down on the seat. It looked like her breathing had become shallower, and my heart clenched with guilt. The final line of the prophecy kept ringing in my ears, mocking me.

 _She saved me… she's going to die because of me…._

With that happy thought, Artemis took the reins and steered us off into the night, leaving behind the angry bellows of Atlas and the jeering howls of Kronos' monster army.


	17. Chapter 17: The Final Goodbye

**Sorry for the long wait guys, I've had a lot of stuff going on lately. Hopefully there won't be as much of a delay after this chapter as there was with last chapter, but I can't guarantee anything because I'm about to start my second year of college, so things are going to get real busy real soon. I can promise you, however, that I _will_ finish this story.**

 **You're probably thinking, _Wait, I thought this was the last chapter?_**

 **Technically, it is, but there's still going to be an epilogue. Keep that in mind when you're reading this chapter. I might get some flame for this one, but I really don't care.**

 **Also, to Seigren: Be sure to send me what you come up with for your challenge thing once you've finished it! :)**

 **Anyways, as always, review/follow/favorite, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

Chapter 17: The Final Goodbye

I sat next to Zoë as we flew above the city, cradling her head against my chest. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing weak but present. I wanted to wake her to reassure myself that she was still alive, that she was still holding on. But I was equally afraid that waking her would waste valuable energy her body needed to fight against the wound Atlas had inflicted on her.

Artemis glanced over. She observed Zoë's limp form in my arms, then my face, where I couldn't conceal the tears that were slowly starting to slide down my cheek. An infinite sadness filled her eyes, and some other emotion I couldn't identify. She turned away again without saying anything.

The moon was high in the sky, bathing us in the soothing glow I adored so much. The temperature had gone down with the sun, and Zoë began shivering. I removed my cloak and wrapped her tightly in it. It wasn't much, but thankfully it seemed to help.

Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia stood alongside each other at the front of the chariot. They were huddled together for warmth, and kept occasionally shooting worried glances back at Zoë and me.

It didn't seem like we were going all that fast, but all of a sudden, I looked up to behold the unmistakable skyline of New York City spread out in front of us. Artemis was steering us straight for the Empire State Building.

I frowned to myself.

"It is the entrance to Olympus." My mother spoke, startling me and answering my unspoken question. "The council must know of what has transpired tonight… and my lieutenant must be attended to." Her voice turned slightly hoarse as she finished.

When we reached the towering skyscraper, Artemis directed us upwards into a bank of clouds roiling above the building. I felt a slight tingle sweep through me, and suddenly, we emerged onto Olympus. I gasped.

An entire mountainside was anchored above the Empire State Building. It was dotted with Ancient Greek-style buildings and pavilions, illuminated beautifully by torches of vermillion flames. Ornate fountains and gardens decorated the area, and I could spot several temples of a far grander and more ostentatious design than any others (twelve such temples, in fact). But at the peak of the mountain loomed the largest, grandest, most elaborate structure of them all, a giant circle of marble with a domed roof of gold: the Hall of the Gods.

Everything seemed to shine with an ethereal light. It was truly breath-taking.

We landed in a courtyard, several flights of stairs below the level of the palace. Artemis allowed Percy and the others to climb out first, then helped gently lift Zoë from the seat. We laid her down carefully on a nearby marble bench.

The five of us gathered around her, gazing down at the Hunter with grief-stricken expressions. "Is she going to survive?" Percy dared to ask, his voice hushed.

Artemis stared at Zoë's chest, following the rise and fall of her lungs. "I do not know," she said quietly. "But if I were to hazard a guess…" She clenched her fist and closed her eyes, and I was unsurprised to see a lone tear leak out from one of them. "…I would say that it is unlikely."

There was a collective intake of breath from everyone except me as the others struggled to accept this. Artemis' answer was exactly what I had expected – and dreaded.

At that moment, Zoë's eyelids slowly fluttered open. She winced in pain, her hand straying up to her chest to touch her wound. Then she glanced around and noticed us. "My lady," she breathed.

Artemis smiled sadly. "Yes, Zoë, I am here."

"Where… where are we?"

"Olympus, brave one. We brought you here after Atlas was imprisoned once more." She clenched her fist. "I would destroy him for what he did to you. Even in defeat, he still –" She broke off, unable to continue.

Zoë coughed, wincing again as the sudden movement jarred her injuries. She placed a hand calmly on my mother's arm. "Do not despair," she said. Every word was spoken with difficulty, but she refused to be denied her goodbyes. "It is time for me to rest. Nothing can stop that now."

She turned to Thalia, who was the closest I'd ever seen her to breaking down in tears. The daughter of Zeus spoke first. "I'm so sorry, Zoë," she said. "I'm sorry I resented you for so long. If I could go back and change how I acted, I would. The truth is… you were right. You were right about Luke, about men. I'm sorry."

Zoë's eyes flicked up to me, then Percy. She gave a weak smile. "No. Not _all_ men." She coughed again, a horrible wracking cough that shook her to the core. "Percy… I apologize for my harsh attitude toward you. You spoke the truth, in the canoe. You are nothing like… like Hercules. I am honored that you carry my sword. You are far more worthy of Anaklusmos than he was."

 _Hang on… Zoë made Percy's sword?_

Percy nodded his gratitude to her, not trusting himself to speak. He, too, looked on the verge of tears.

At last, she met my eyes. Her captivating obsidian orbs were filled with sadness and regret. "Orion…" I nearly lost it right there, just at the way she said my name. I didn't know it was possible to pour so much love and meaning into one single word.

I grasped her hand, despite the fact that my mother was standing right beside us. Zoë was dying; it didn't matter if Artemis found out about us now. I responded to Zoë's one word with but two of my own:

"I know."

Her grip tightened on my hand, her eyes not leaving mine.

I felt my mother's gaze burning into my back. I didn't look up. "Percy, Thalia, Annabeth," Artemis said. "Might you give us a minute alone?"

They didn't look too happy about it – clearly they wanted to be there for Zoë's final minutes – but they knew better than to argue against a goddess. They nodded reluctantly and retreated to the bottom of the stairs that led to the Hall of the Gods.

When they were gone, I preempted Artemis by speaking first. "I know what you're going to say," I said. My eyes were still locked with Zoë's, attempting to communicate everything we ever felt towards each other just through the connection of our eyes. I tried to memorize her features, to internalize them so that I'd never forget them.

Artemis inclined her head towards her lieutenant. "You love her." It was a simple statement of fact, but one that carried with it too many implications to count – most of them negative.

"You're not asking, are you?" I said. I knew the answer, of course.

"I am not."

"Didn't think so."

"…Well?"

I swallowed, mindful of the Hunter sprawled below me watching me. Waiting.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"And you" – she addressed Zoë now, her face disturbingly blank – "you love him as well?"

Zoë looked me dead in the eyes as she nodded.

"Were either of you planning to tell me?" Artemis demanded.

I finally raised my eyes to meet hers, but almost immediately dropped them again. "Probably… probably not. But it depends, I suppose."

"On what?"

"What would your reaction have been?"

That seemed to give her pause. "I… I do not know," she answered, and I didn't doubt her. It was rare enough to hear a deity use those three words together in a sentence, you tended to believe them when they did. "To be honest, I am finding it rather difficult at the moment to concentrate on anything other than the fact that my lieutenant who has served me for thousands of years is on the brink of death." She faltered at the end. It seemed like she wasn't sure how to feel about the revelation she'd just learned, so the overwhelming sadness she felt at Zoë's imminent passing was overriding everything else.

"I am sorry, my lady," Zoë said. She was shivering now, her voice growing weaker by the minute. The silver glow that always illuminated her was hardly visible. "But… I do not regret my choice. I would make it again if I had the chance." Her words filled me with warmth, and I squeezed her hand to let her know that I shared her sentiments. Neither of us were ashamed at what we had.

Artemis regarded us silently for a moment. "My reaction is irrelevant now," she said, her voice ragged with despair. "Whatever decision I would have made has been taken out of my hands."

"I am sorry, my lady," Zoë repeated. "I have failed you."

Finally, Artemis could no longer restrain herself; the tears began flowing freely down her face. She shook her head and tenderly placed a hand on Zoë's forehead. "No, Zoë," she said. "Never. Not once in two thousand years have you ever failed me, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have known you."

"Even though…" She hesitated. "Even though I broke my oath?"

Something stirred in the back of my mind as she said that. I frowned. It felt like something important, but I couldn't quite place it.

Artemis nodded. "You were not the first. Nor, I imagine, will you be the last. Perhaps had things happened differently, and I had found out sooner, I would have simply expelled you from the Hunters. But I would never willingly harm you, Zoë; you have sacrificed too much for me over the centuries."

Once again, I had the strong impression I was forgetting something important, but I still couldn't put my finger on it. _Sacrifice… oath…_

All of a sudden, it hit me with the force of Apollo's sun train. I remembered my father's letter that he left for me to find in the cave: _Remember the Altruist's Oath_. And I recalled Chiron's words when we discussed the topic: _The caster of the Oath takes on the wounds of his target, in their place._

 _In their place…_

The color drained from my face. It was as if someone had flicked a switch in my brain, and everything suddenly made sense.

 _One shall perish in another's place._ What if that was what Chiron had meant about it being "my fate" to learn of the Oath? What if that was what the prophecy had been referring to all along? I had thought that Zoë was the one who was going to die, because she'd been fatally wounded trying to save me. essentially perishing in my place But what if that wasn't it at all?

What if it was talking about me?

Everything changed in that instant. I realized that Zoë's fate was now entirely in my hands. I had the power to save her life – at the cost of my own. A small part of me – possibly my instinct of self-preservation – rebelled against the idea of giving up my life. But it was quelled by the rest of me that said that Zoë deserved to live. And she deserved it far more than me.

What had I ever done besides be a burden? So I'd helped save Artemis, and I'd come to care for Percy and the others – and Zoë, obviously – but wasn't the whole reason for my existence originally just to cause Artemis and Apollo pain?

Zoë was immortal. She still had potentially thousands of years ahead of her in service to my mother. I loved her; how could I deny her that? If I had the power of the Oath at my fingertips, how could I knowingly, willingly make the choice to put my own life ahead of hers?

The answer was simple: I couldn't.

So I made my choice.

I had spent so long in my contemplations that I noticed Artemis was looking at me strangely. I composed myself as best I could and cleared my throat. "Mother…" I began slowly. "Would you mind if… if we had a few moments together?" I paused. "Alone?"

Understandably, Artemis looked extremely reluctant to acquiesce. But I could tell she thought that I was about to get personal with her lieutenant, and she didn't particularly want to bear witness to that. Plus, I think she had accepted the truth of our feelings at this point, and she _was_ still a mother who wanted her son to be happy. In the end, she nodded once, agreeing to respect our privacy. She walked away to join Percy and the others.

When she was gone, I didn't hesitate, and neither did Zoë. I bent down as she lifted her head, and our lips met in the most passionate kiss we'd ever shared. I tasted something salty, and realized that we both had tears streaming down our faces, mingling with the kiss.

After an eternity, we pulled away. Zoë coughed and shuddered. "Orion," she began.

But again, I didn't let her say more than that one word. "I know, Zoë. But don't worry… this isn't the end. Not yet."

Confusion was written on her face. "Orion, what are you – ?"

"Shhh. Just relax and trust me. This shouldn't hurt much… I hope." I could tell she still had no idea what I was talking about, but she took my advice and decided to trust me.

I closed my eyes and clasped her hand tightly with both of mine, giving it a quick kiss. Then I thought back to Chiron's office, to the piece of paper Marethyu had entrusted to Chiron, inscribed with the words of the Altruist's Oath. And I began to speak:

"I, Orion, son of Artemis, accept the wounds of Zoë Nightshade, daughter of Atlas, as my own. I do this willingly, with a clear heart, free of compulsion, and in full knowledge of the consequences. I offer my body that hers may be spared."

Almost immediately, there was a warm, tingling sensation that spread outwards from the center of my chest. A glowing silver light began to emanate from our interconnected hands, completely encompassing them in its radiance.

My eyes opened to behold Zoë staring at me, wide-eyed. "Orion," she said fearfully. "What have you done?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but was hit with such an intense wave of pain that my words were swallowed in a gasp instead.

A familiar and furious female voice reached me through the haze of pain, echoing Zoë's words: "ORION! What have you done?!" Then suddenly Artemis was at our side, her eyes a threatening mix of concern and rage.

Somehow, I found my voice, but it was hoarse and scratchy. "I'm sorry, mother…" I said. "But I had to do this."

Before she could respond, another voice, equally enraged, boomed through the courtyard. "YOU DARE USE FORBIDDEN MAGIC HERE?"

Artemis paled. "Ahhh," I groaned. "Is that who I think it is?"

The air next to us crackled and sparked. A bolt of lightning struck the ground beside Artemis, and when it faded, a very tall, very angry man in a gray pinstripe suit stood there. His eyes were a dark blue-gray color, like a thunderstorm. His stern face and chiseled jaw were tightly set, a sign of his building fury.

I gulped. This was not an ideal situation to be meeting the king of the gods, but then again, I was about to die; did it really matter?

"Lord Zeus," I said, as respectfully as I could manage. "I'm afraid I –" The rest of my sentence was cut off by a yowl of pain. My right side had suddenly flared in agony, and it almost felt like a gigantic monster had sank its teeth into my skin.

 _That would be the bite from Ladon, then_.

I thought I understood what Chiron had meant when he told me about the Oath, but now I was realizing the truth of it: I was going to suffer the pain of every injury Zoë had accumulated, as if I'd been the one to accrue them in the first place.

The next thing I experienced was a disturbingly familiar sensation. My blood became liquid fire, burning its path through my veins, and I knew that had to be the effects of Ladon's poison. It was too similar to the agony I'd suffered at the hands of Scorpius' venom.

As the pain grew, it became harder to concentrate. I was vaguely aware of my mother arguing with Zeus, but I only caught a few things here and there.

"…can't… if you interrupt the process… could kill both…"

"…boy deserves to die… taking advantage of forbidden magic…"

"…is my son! You do not get to decide…"

I could actually feel myself losing strength. Mingled with the pain was a disturbing sense of numbness, the numbing cold that comes seems to suck all the energy out of you, leaving you as nothing but a husk of your former self. It was exactly how I'd felt back in the cave in Death Valley.

The weaker I grew, though, the more Zoë recovered. Her skin was returning to its beautiful copper sheen; the telltale silver glow of the Hunters around her was steadily becoming stronger; but her eyes were filled with an interminable sadness as she lay there and stared at me, helpless to intervene.

Then the last wave of pain hit.

A streak of white-hot agony exploded across my upper torso as Zoë's spear wound from Atlas transferred to me. Everything else faded to the background, and I couldn't even think anymore. All I could do was focus on the pain and try to ride it out, hoping that I could regain some semblance of coherence before it destroyed me.

Miraculously, it seemed the Fates were at least on my side in that. I must have briefly blacked out, because next thing I knew, I found Zoë and I's positions were reversed; I was sprawled out on the bench, and her worried face was hovering above me. The pain had receded somewhat, but it was still somewhere up there between _excruciating_ and _completely debilitating_.

I also noticed we were no longer alone.

Artemis, Zeus, the rest of the Olympian Council, Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia had all gathered in the garden with us. Most of the gods wore indifferent expressions, save Aphrodite, Zeus, and of course, my mother. My demigod friends had runny noses and red-rimmed eyes as they stared at me with a mix of pity and horror, struggling to hold back the flood of tears.

"Orion," Zoë whispered. "Can you hear me?"

I nodded weakly. "Crystal clear," I croaked. I hardly recognized my own voice; it felt like my throat had been filled with boiling water, then scraped raw by sandpaper.

Zoë cupped my face with her left hand. Her right had a death grip on my left. Alarmed, I realized that I couldn't even feel her hand with my own; the only reason I knew she was holding on to me was because I could see it.

 _That's probably not a good sign._

"You damned fool," she choked out through her tears. "You handsome, idiotic, wonderful, stupid _fool_. Why didn't you let me die?"

I still barely retained feeling in my right hand, so I raised it and placed it over Zoë's hand that was on my cheek. "I had the power to save you, so I did," I said simply.

"You deserve the chance at life far more than I do, Orion. I have already walked this earth for two millennia; you have not even lived for two decades. How could you give up the rest of your time for me when my time had come?"

"Oh, Zoë," I said tenderly. "You know the answer to that question. I love you, more than anything else in this world. I owe everything to you, whether you know it or not. You made me who I am. You showed me that despite all my flaws, all my worthlessness, it was still possible for me to experience love. And I realized that a world without you was not a world I wanted to exist in."

"Orion…" She couldn't finish, floored from the strength of my resolve and my devotion to her.

Zeus cleared his throat. I turned my head.

"Ah, Lord Zeus." I coughed. "I apologize for invoking the Oath. I would offer myself to receive punishment, but, well…"

Artemis let out a short sob before covering her mouth with her hand. Zeus glanced at her briefly, his eyes softening somewhat, then studied me for a moment. He sighed. "I do not know how your existence even came to be," he said. "But I can see that my daughter" – his eyes flicked to Thalia – "or _daughters_ , rather, care deeply for you, and you for them. As you have used the Oath with honor for its intended purpose, and in light of your… situation… your transgression is forgiven."

I inclined my head to him in respect. Then I locked eyes with Percy. "Take care of them," I said as fiercely as I could manage. "Take care of everyone. Don't let my death be in vain. Don't let Kronos win this war." Inevitably, I returned my gaze to Zoë's despair-filled obsidian eyes as I finished: "And most of all, never, _ever_ , let go of what you're fighting for."

Percy nodded and swore to abide by my last orders. After a brief moment of hesitation, his hand slipped into Annabeth's, and I offered them a sad smile.

My pain was fading. The numbing cold was growing stronger. I didn't have much time left, and there was still something I needed to set right.

"Mother," I whispered.

My right hand was suddenly engulfed in warmth. "I am here," Artemis said.

I coughed again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It seems… it seems I've done nothing but cause you pain in my short and miserable life. I hope, in a meaningful death, I can redeem myself for the mistake that was my existence."

"Oh, Orion…" My mother squeezed my hand. "None of that is true. With my vow, I never thought I would know what it was like to be a mother. But you have allowed me to experience that in ways I could never imagine. Your life was not a mistake, not to me. It was the greatest gift I could ever receive."

I smiled weakly. Artemis' words filled me with gratitude, and for a moment, I could almost ignore the terrifying sensation of feeling my life draining away.

It may have taken me that long to realize it, but I finally understood why Artemis and Zoë refused to allow me to apologize for causing their suffering. Love and pain, or joy and agony; they're two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other.

Artemis and Zoë loved me. They accepted the fact that my presence in their lives might cause them just as much pain as it did happiness, but they were willing to bear it all the same. They never gave up on me just because things became challenging or painful.

I wasn't exaggerating when I said I owed everything to Zoë. And as I lay there with her hand intertwined in mine, dying so that she could live, I thought that maybe, just maybe, the debt was finally paid.

* * *

 **P.S. please don't kill me, remember there _is_ still an epilogue. :')**


	18. Epilogue

**Welp, here it is. I feel like it isn't my best work (more on that at the end) but this is the final FINAL chapter of Craters. Hope you enjoy, and please stick around to read the A/N at the bottom. It's going to have some very important information.**

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Epilogue

The solemn procession marched slowly into the Hall of the Gods.

No one spoke. The gods grew to their larger forms and took their thrones, most of them seeming disinterested, save a few. Artemis stared blankly at the walls, her silver eyes empty and rimmed with red. Apollo, too, was more grim than Zoë had ever seen him. He slumped in his throne, gazing down along with the other gods at the five companions before them – four living, one dead.

It didn't seem real. Orion couldn't be gone. Zoë loved him, and he loved her. He would never leave her.

But then the body she carried gently in her arms grew heavy, as if reminding her that it was there. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn to the ceiling where the constellations were mapped out, immediately locking on to the newest addition to the celestial formations; the final gift from his mother.

A boy with a thin sword, standing alongside his father and namesake, reaching out his hand in peace.

She felt nothing. The grief had come earlier, sudden and overwhelming, when he had been bleeding out in her arms. Her cheeks were stained from the tears, her eyes swollen and burning. But there were no more tears left for her to shed. Now, she was only numb, lifeless. Even the grand and vibrant colors of Olympus were dull and muted, as if the world had no beauty left in it. For her, she didn't think it ever would again.

Zeus cleared his throat awkwardly, fully aware of the somber atmosphere but helpless to do anything about it. His eyes flicked to Artemis in concern, before returning to rest on the half-bloods in front of him.

"Heroes," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I thank you for rescuing my daughter from Atlas. I offer my condolences for your losses in doing so."

Zoë almost wanted to laugh. The words were meaningless. No condolences could bring Orion back. Thalia gave her a look that spoke volumes. She was offering her unspoken comfort to Zoë, and with a grateful nod of her head, the Hunter accepted it.

"I understand that this quest has come at a heavy cost to all of you, but you have succeeded in rendering me a great service," Zeus continued. "If there is any reward that any –"

"I wish to be dismissed from the Hunters." Zoë's emotionless interruption halted Zeus in his tracks. She felt Percy and Annabeth's eyes on her, but Zoë had made up her mind. Immortality was no longer a blessing for her; it was a curse, a barrier that would keep her from Orion. Besides, she had broken her oath. She didn't deserve to hunt at her mistress' side anymore.

Zoë looked up and met Artemis' blank gaze with her own. She prepared to speak, but then she gasped. She nearly dropped Orion's body in shock.

He had twitched.

* * *

Everything was gray.

The world was nothing but wisps of smoke, drifting through empty space. I tried to move my body, but I couldn't. I had no body. It was similar to the time that Apollo had allowed me to share his mind, in order to show me his memories. Only, then, the "buffer" (as he called it) was organized and disciplined. Both of us were able to form stand-ins for our bodies.

Wherever I was now, that wasn't the case. The sensation was difficult to describe. I existed almost solely in a state of bewildered awareness, unable to do anything but think. Hazy images flickered beneath me. I thought I saw a circular room, a grand hall of some kind. I tried to remember what happened.

I had died, hadn't I? The thought should have alarmed me, but it didn't. I couldn't feel anything. I simply registered that fact as truth. I could recall feeling my life force drain out of me before everything went black, but now, there was just… nothing.

I was certain I was dead. And yet, by all accounts, this was not what the Underworld was supposed to be like. What really happened to me? Where was I?

 _Hello, Orion._ A voice spoke – or, not exactly. It was more like the words suddenly appeared in my thoughts, but I somehow knew the thought wasn't mine.

I became aware of a presence swirling in the mist with me. It felt familiar, warm and comforting. _Who are you?_ I asked the darkness.

I got the sense the presence was amused by my question. _You don't remember me?_ An image flitted through my head: a tall man with a black cloak and icy blue eyes, a glint of metal protruding from his right sleeve.

 _Marethyu?_ Was it possible? The man – if he even _was_ a man – certainly had an inexplicable interest in me, and he was nothing if not powerful and tenacious. Could he have followed me even here… wherever "here" was?

 _Indeed, my old friend,_ Marethyu said. Some of the gray swirls began to coalesce and merge together, forming a crude, stick-figure-like shape in the darkness.

 _Where am I? And how did you do that?_

 _With great focus and much practice. As for where we are…_ He pondered the question, trying to decide on a reasonable answer. _To tell you the truth, I'm not sure exactly_ , he eventually confessed. _We are somewhere in the badlands between life and death._

 _How did I get here?_

The stick-figure smiled. _Why, you died, of course_.

I knew that already. What I didn't understand was why I wasn't at the gates of Hades right now. _I know that. But I thought dead souls were sent to the Underworld?_

 _Most of them are_ , he confirmed.

 _This doesn't seem like the Underworld to me_ , I said dryly.

 _Indeed it is not._

 _So…?_ I prompted.

 _Do you remember how Kronos was able to revive your father?_ he asked suddenly.

If I had eyebrows, they would have furrowed in confusion. _Yes._

Marethyu reminded me anyway. _When Orion died, Artemis preserved his soul in the stars by making him into a constellation._ The truth dawned on me the moment before he spoke it. _She has now done the same to you._

I tried to wrap my non-corporeal head around that. I was a bunch of stars now? _If that's true, how are you here?_

Marethyu morphed his face into a wry grin. _After all the things you have seen,_ that _is your question?_

 _Good point._ Why _are you here, then?_

 _To help you, of course._

I frowned. Or – oh, you get the point. _Didn't you say I'm dead?_

 _Your body is dead,_ he confirmed.

 _Then how can you help me?_

He paused, then said, _Because your soul yet lives._

 _So, what, you can somehow zap me back down into my body?_

 _No. That, I'm afraid, is quite impossible. Once a soul has been completely severed from its host, it can never be reunited._

I did my best not to take that too hard. For a moment there, I thought I might have actually been able to return to Earth. _Oh. Then how are you going to help me?_

 _I'm going to give you a new host._

What? Did he mean… he was going to _make_ me a body? All this talk of souls and bodies and impermanent death was making my head spin.

 _I can do for you something similar to what Kronos did for you father_ , Marethyu explained. _A temporary host, a spirit, almost, made of pure energy._

His wording didn't escape my notice. _Temporary?_

 _Yes. When Kronos revived your father, he used only a fraction of his energy; just enough to sustain Orion for one night, so that he could complete his mission. I am willing to give you significantly more of my power than that, and it will sustain you for longer._

 _How long?_

He hesitated. _A month._

 _A month,_ I repeated. _What's the point of going back if I'm just going to die again in a month?_

 _A fair question. What if I said this: your return to the world of the living need not be temporary._

 _But… you said –_

 _I said that my energy could only sustain you for one month. That is to buy you time so that you can seek out someone who can help you more than I. Someone who can give you back a mortal form._

There was nothing I wanted more than to return to the world of the living. Not for myself, for Zoë. If there was any chance I could see her again… _Who is this mysterious person?_

 _An inventor. You may recognize his name… Daedalus._

I snorted. _Daedalus? He must have been dead for millennia._

But Marethyu shook his head. _Not so. And that is exactly why he is the perfect person to help you. Daedalus has survived for all these thousands of years because he discovered a way to transfer his mortal soul into the body of an automaton._

I was so stunned I couldn't come up with a statement to answer that. An automaton? The man was a living, breathing automaton?

 _I can send your soul back to Earth in a temporary spirit vessel. It will only last a month, but that should give you enough time to seek out Daedalus. If you can find him and convince him to help you, he can fashion you a new body and transfer your soul into it from the spirit vessel._

I finally regained enough coherence to respond. _And if I can't?_

 _Then you will fade,_ he answered grimly. _That is why I am offering you a choice._

The blurry images I'd noticed earlier became sharper, more focused. I could suddenly make out a structure I recognized to be the Hall of the Gods, and all the gods were present in it. Standing in front of them was Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, and…

 _Zoë,_ I whispered. I returned my attention to Marethyu. _What is this?_

 _This is the present,_ he replied. _You have a choice, my friend. If I send you back to search for Daedalus, you will exist only as a spirit. There are very few things you will be to physically interact with. That includes objects… and people,_ he added knowingly. _And if you should fail – if you cannot find Daedalus or persuade him to help you within a month – the energy binding your soul to the mortal plane will disappear, and your existence will fade from the world forever._

A chill ran down my metaphorical spine. _What's the other option?_

 _You stay here forever. From the stars, you can observe events as they are happening, all over the world. You may even have the chance to reunite with your loved ones. If you fade, that will never be the case._

He paused, and I felt a distinct impression of piercing blue eyes studying me closely. _So, my dear Orion… which is it? A chance at life and risk of eternal nothingness… or peace, and a chance of reuniting with lost souls._

I only considered the choice for but a moment. I smiled sadly at him. _You know me well enough by now, I don't think I need to answer that,_ I said. _But I will all the same._ I steeled myself and nodded to him. _Send me back._

His expression was grim, but he nodded in return. _Very well. But know this: I will not be able to help you at all in your quest for Daedalus. I am giving you a significant amount of my energy for this, and I will need time to recover. I'm afraid that, for the foreseeable future, you are on your own, Orion._

I grimaced. But then I thought of Percy, and Annabeth, and Thalia. Most of all, though, I thought of Zoë. I smiled. _No,_ I said. _No, I'm not._

 **FIN**

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 **I know. It's really short, and in all honesty, it sucked. But I just don't have the heart to put a lot of effort into this story anymore, and I wasn't going to leave you guys hanging with no ending, so here you go. I left it open for a sequel, in which Orion goes on a quest to find Daedalus, but I can't tell you for sure if that will ever get written. I'd have to flesh out a full plot and everything, and right now I just don't feel like doing that. I've had other ideas on my mind lately, and I might post the result of some of those ideas on here as another story. So if you like Game of Thrones, keep an eye out.**

 **Additionally, the more I wrote for this story, the more I started to hate how I started it. One day, if I ever have time and my interest returns to this fandom once more, I'll go back and do a complete re-write of the story. But that is long way from happening.**

 **I'm sorry for the way this story ended. I started to lose motivation for it near the end, but I was adamant that I was going to finish it and I refused to abandon it. As a result, the last few chapters were horse shit. Again, sorry. I did the best I could.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the story, and for the last time, favorite and review :)**

 **arack out**

 **p.s. actually don't review, I can't see how anyone could possibly have anything good to say about this chapter so I'd rather you not say anything at all. lol**


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